


In the Navy Now

by maychorian



Series: Crow and Crossbones [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Bullying, Character Development, Dragons, Drama, Gen, Historically Inaccurate, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Pirates, Protectiveness, captain cow, go go let's go let's go datekou, hinata is far too innocent for his own good, many other characters will make appearances, tanaka is the best senpai, terushima is a flashy dork, ushijima is a cow, yamaguchi is brave
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-07 04:43:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3161642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maychorian/pseuds/maychorian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite growing up in the port town of Yukigaoka, Hinata Shouyou never had any wish to go to sea. Then one night of songs and stories fills his head with dreams, and he wakes the next morning to find himself a newly conscripted powder boy aboard The Swan, a stately navy vessel under the stern command of Ushijima Wakatoshi. And so, with his new dreams and his new shipmates, Hinata begins his life on the Shifting Sea of the sunlit Aritossa Archipelago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. IN WHICH Terushima is flashy, charismatic, and a good singer, and Hinata contracts the sea fever.

**Author's Note:**

> [Here is the pirate music I listened to while writing this.](http://8tracks.com/maychorian/collections/pirates) The first two playlists are mine, the products of an entire adult life of collecting folk music with a particular eye for songs that make me think of piracy and the sea. Hope you like it.
> 
> ANYWAY. Here is the project I've been talking about.
> 
> I have been writing this story in dribs and drabs between other projects for months, so the first few chapters will post relatively quickly, but then the pace will slow to a crawl. I apologize for the inconvenience.
> 
> Please note that this is a fantasy pirate AU, so it is not set in the historical piracy era, nor in the Caribbean, but in a tropical sea of my own invention that blends dragons, Japanese culture, and pirate lore of the most shoddily researched pedigree. Please enjoy despite its faults.
> 
> Characters will be hopefully recognizable, but quite different from their canon counterparts, as their upbringing and surroundings have been very different. Volleyball will feature not at all, and for that I do apologize.
> 
> Please keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times. Here we go.

Something was wrong with the floor. It wasn't moving right. Why was it swaying?

Hinata had never felt the floor moving like this before, and he didn't know what was going on. He couldn't remember what had happened last night. His head was spinning. He felt sick.

The air was pungent with the strong smell of salt and fish, a sound of voices muffled and indistinct, the distant cry of gulls. Closer, someone was moaning. It might have been Hinata, or it might have been someone else. He certainly felt like moaning.

He felt like crying for his mother, actually. Did he have a fever? Was that why he felt so bad? What had he drunk last night that had made him feel like this?

He knew he shouldn't have gone to that pub. It was a stupid dare and he shouldn't have fallen for it, but Hinata had always been susceptible to peer pressure. Then again, could you really call it peer pressure when it was technically your underlings who had talked you into it? Or at least kouhai? Hinata suspected he should at least refer to them as his kouhai, but in truth they were all just grubby children playing in the street, and it didn't particularly matter what relation they had to each other. The only thing that truly mattered was that they considered themselves to be a gang, and Hinata was their captain. That the most they got up to was starting rock fights with other gangs of grubby children, or perhaps gathering rotten produce from rubbish bins for use at the public stockade or other performances that invited the throwing of foul-smelling missiles, was neither here nor there. They were still a gang and Hinata was still the captain.

So really, last night when Izumi and Kouji had started going on about how Hinata needed to uphold his reputation as a brave captain and go sneak into the waterfront pub and bring them back a tankard of ale, Hinata should have refused them. He should have ordered them to shut up and stop trying to tell him what to do because he was the captain and they had no business even suggesting that he do something like that. But Hinata had never run his gang that way. Izumi and Kouji were his friends, had been since they first started playing hooky from elementary school together, and they had always laughed and joked with each other and given each other stupid dares.

Granted, their dares were usually no more important or dangerous than jumping off the end of the wharf or trying to knock the hat off the stuffy constable with a slingshot, but truly and honestly, Hinata's friends had never intended harm. The waterfront pub was supposed to be seedy (those of them who had mothers were constantly being warned to stay away from such places, which only made their appeal that much more powerful) and therefore interesting, that was all. It wasn't supposed to be actually dangerous.

When Hinata first entered the pub, it had seemed exactly like he and his friends had expected. It was interesting. It was an adventure. It was full of sailors newly home from the sea or waiting for their ship to set sail again, and some were brimming with gold and happily buying rounds for their companions while others sat sullenly nursing warm glasses from hours ago, waiting for the chance to take to the waves and earn more money to spend in profligate excess once they returned.

A few eyes looked at Hinata with avarice or interest, but he didn't stand out. A grubby street child he was, yes, but he didn't look much different than the two or three ship boys who sat amongst their fellows at the gap-planked tables or the wobbly-legged benches. Hinata filled his tankard with ale and paid with a small coin. He intended to take it directly out to where his friends waited around the corner of an alley, skulking with the alehouse refuse. He could imagine their faces when he appeared, wide-eyed and gap-mouthed with astonishment that Hinata had pulled off this daring deed.

Before he could make his escape to the street, though, Hinata's attention was caught by words from the mouth of one particularly garrulous sailor. The sailor was one fresh from sea with pockets full of coin, and he was therefore the center of a circle of landlubbers hanging on his every word (and eyeing his bulging purse with intense interest).

"Aye, we caught a glimpse of the Catclaw slipping in and out amongst the waves. Those that call her an apparition ain't telling tales. She's like a will o' the wisp, that ship, and her crew are all the same, cat-footed and stealthy on sea or on shore. Before you know it she'll be upon you, and your gold will go to the pirates what sail her. The Catclaw, she's a fearsome ship and no mistake.”

Hinata was caught short standing with one foot pointed to the door and the other to that talking sailor. He'd heard of the Catclaw, oh yes; it was a pirate ship and it embodied everything that was fascinating and mythical about the ocean. He'd heard tales and tales of the Catclaw and her slant-smiled captain, Kuroo Tetsurou, and her quiet and mysterious navigator, the enigmatic Kozume Kenma.

"Ha, the Catclaw!" said a hanger-on, a buxom woman with an obnoxious voice that made Hinata wince, shoulders rising toward his ears. "It's a dirty great myth, it is. The Swan's in port, you know. If Captain Ushijima catches sight of that disreputable thing, he'll put it to rights."

"Oi, you ignorant wench!" the sailor bellowed, gesturing with his tankard so vigorously that ale slopped over his hand on both sides. "What do you know of the Catclaw? Nothing, says I. That's hogwash, that is!"

"Shut your gob!" she shrieked, flying for his face with claws unsheathed, and there before Hinata's wide and blinking eyes a brawl broke out.

As brawls went, it was not very impressive. The man and the woman were both half-drunk, and their blows were ill-aimed and badly timed. Still, Hinata managed to get jostled in the general melee as several others joined in, trying to drag the two apart. He kept his feet, but lost his tankard as it was knocked from his grasping hand. He reached for it as it fell, but his reflexes only served him well enough for him to knock it askew in the air so that it tumbled mouth over butt and spilled every precious drop he'd risked his life to attain.

Hinata stood, open-mouthed with dismay, watching his tankard roll thrice over the dirty floor and come to rest in a puddle of spilled ale. That had been his only coin. He'd picked it from some high-hatted gentleman's pocket just this morning. And now it was gone, wasted on the floor, and he hadn't tasted even a sip of that forbidden sweetness. Izumi and Kouji were going to be terribly disappointed.

He looked up to find that the brawling pair had been pried apart, and now sat on opposite sides of a table. The woman rubbed her head, eyeing the man balefully, and he felt at a big red knob on his shin, pouting most fearsomely in her direction. Their companions laughed and clapped them both on the back, mightily pleased by the sport.

"Ay, lad, are you hurt?" Hinata looked up at the cheerful voice to find a young sailor man bending down to inspect him. "You took a knock—are you hurt at all?"

Hinata shook his head, doubtfully at first, then more certainly after he'd patted himself down a bit. All of his limbs seemed to be intact. Still, he looked at his spilled tankard. "Nay, I'm not hurt," he said in a most doleful voice.

The young sailor's voice pealed in laughter. "Oh, but you lost your ale, did you? What a pity!" He fetched the tankard from where it had rolled under a bench and placed it kindly in Hinata's hand, then bent on one knee to dust him off, his hands rough but friendly.

His eyes were sparkling and his hair was cut strangely, showing two colors, black and blond. Hinata stared at him in fascination, his eyes drawn to the sailor's many piercings—silver and gold shone from both ears and from his nose, and when he spoke Hinata thought he saw a glint of metal within his mouth, as well. His clothes were brightly colored but ragged, only the plumed hat on his head in anything but disrepair.

All in all, the fellow couldn't have been more than five years older than Hinata, but already he looked to have sailed to many lands and encountered many adventures. A stirring of something like jealousy pricked Hinata's heart. He'd never wanted to be a sailor, in particular, though he enjoyed all the stories he was privileged to hear in this port town of Yukigaoka. He liked his life as the captain of a band of bosom friends, running where they willed and doing as they pleased. But this strange young man with his outlandish appearance was, Hinata had to admit, appealing in a rough, roguish way.

"There, all set to rights now," the young sailor said, finishing off with a hearty clap to Hinata's shoulder. "Are you sure you're all right, lad? You look much too young to frequent an establishment like this." The barmaid passing by with a tray of drinks hooted in derision, and the sailor waved a hand in cheerful apology. "Fine as it is! Fine as it is! It's a fine establishment, I meant no offense!"

She tsked loudly and smacked his shoulder, then went on her way, and the sailor turned his grin back to Hinata. His smile failed suddenly when he saw Hinata's glare, though. "Ehh? What is it, my little friend?"

"I'm thirteen, you know!" Hinata said, waving his tankard in pure frustration. He knew he was short, short for his age and short for his captaincy, but he hated to be underestimated. "I'm plenty old enough to visit a pub! Don't look down on me!" He waved a finger in the young man's face, supremely irritated that he had to point upward to do so, even with the sailor bending down to face him.

The sailor leaned back, waving his hands once again to dispel Hinata's irritation. "Ara, I meant no offense, young master!" He rubbed the back of his head, his smile twisted at one corner. "It does seem my day to be causing offense without meaning to, doesn't it? Truly, I meant no harm."

Hinata watched him narrowly for a moment. "I supposed you didn't mean anything by it," he said grudgingly. Still, he couldn't help but pout at the empty tankard in his hand. He had worked _hard_ for that coin.

"Oh, your ale!" The young sailor slapped his own forehead hard enough to leave a red mark, then turned to the tempestuous couple still nursing their wounds at the table. "Ay, Bess! You owe this young man a drink!"

"I don't owe that scamp nothing," Bess said scornfully, but the man across the table waved at her, moving his hand up and down as if to calm a snorting horse.

"Now, Bess, we did cause the lad to lose his ale. Pay for a new one from my pocket. It's only fair."

"Aye, Hob, as you say," the woman said, and though the words were peaceful, her voice was snide. She stumped her way over to Hob and snatched the purse he held out to her, then waved for a barmaid. Hob gave her a muzzy smile, droopy-eyed with drink. If Hinata hadn't known better, he would have thought he was besotted with her.

"Are they all right?" he asked the young sailor lowly.

"Oh, aye, not a doubt of it!" he declared, the corners of his mouth turning up in a three-cornered grin. "Those two make a good deal of racket, but you never saw a more affectionate man and wife, that I can assure you. They'll tumble each other over the tables heartily, and tumble even more heartily into bed when they're done."

"They're...they're married?" Hinata asked, eyeing the two askance.

"Man and wife for seven years!" Hob cried, as his companions thumped him on the back and shoulders. Bess growled at him with a most ferocious glint in her eye, then took Hinata's tankard from his hand so fiercely that his palm stung and went to chase down a barmaid.

"Come sit with us," the young sailor said, patting Hinata on the shoulder again as he bounced to his feet. "You were interested in Hob's tales about the Catclaw, weren't you? There's room at the table for you, plenty, with you being such a mite. I'm Terushima, by the way, and pleased I am to make your acquaintance."

"I'm not a mite!" Hinata protested, but he found himself quickly ushered to a seat in a corner of the table, sheltered between Terushima and the wall. Bess soon returned with his tankard, and Hinata found no opportunity to slip off and take it to his friends. He drank the ale, which was very good—dark and brown and bitter. He tried to drink it slowly, still looking for a chance to escape, but Terushima clapped his back and urged him to drink like a man, and Hinata finished that tankard, then another one, and then he lost track.

Hob's stories were good, and as he was fresh from the sea, his purse-strings were loose. Hinata learned more than he'd ever wanted to learn about the married life of grizzled sailors and buxom washerwomen, but he also got to hear plenty about the Catclaw and the navy vessel called the Swan, as well as many other ships that sailed the Shifting Sea, pirates and merchant ships and good upright navy vessels.

Despite living in a port town, he'd never before heard so many tales of the sea, and they filled his head near to bursting with images and ideas he'd never entertained before. He heard the snap of sails billowing in the wind, smelled the pungent stink of salt spray, saw a mist on the face of the waves. He imagined the dragons of the sea, the mighty creatures feared by merchant vessels, fended off by navymen, and sought by pirates.

He dreamed of lonely islands with steaming volcanoes and lush, dense jungles. He thought he heard the clash of swords and smelled the sharp burn of gunpowder, thought he felt the terrifying and exhilarating sting of splinters thrown up from wooden balustrades by the launch of cannonballs from opposing ships. He envisioned the sight from a crow's nest swaying above the ship, the beating of the sun and the tilt of the ocean far below, the glimpse of giant creatures of the deep swimming along beside, blue within blue.

The ale kept coming, as did the stories, and someone began to sing a song of the sea, loud and raucous and not meant for ears as young as Hinata's. He laughed and sang along, and then there were songs he didn't know, and he listened, smiling, drowsing in his cups. Terushima had the finest voice he'd ever heard, of that Hinata was certain, strong and young and clear. He sang about a maid on a shore and a captain who desired her, the maid's defiance and cleverness, the way she escaped with far more treasure than the captain had ever thought to give her, and how she never saw him more and he was left to pine in jealous misery.

Someone with a guitar had been playing along with Terushima, and others sometimes joined in with a tambourine, a shaker. Someone had a fiddle and someone had a pipe, and sometimes between verses they would wail and toodle out versions of the melody that made Hinata clap along. But suddenly Terushima stood up on his bench, shouting and spreading his arms. He was a little unsteady on his feet, having consumed far more ale than was wise, but his eyes and his grin were both very bright.

"Let me sing, let me sing!" he cried. "A song with no instruments, only the voice! Let me sing the song of all sailors, of all who long for the briny deep and a strong wind to carry them there!"

Some laughed and someone shoved at Terushima's leg, ordering him to stand down and let the group have their fun, but he would not be swayed. "One song!" he insisted. "I swear it's a short one. Let me entertain you with my voice."

He was so earnest and straightforward and obviously good-natured that eventually all fell silent and let him have his wish. As the silence gradually came down, Terushima bobbed and weaved, bowing in thanks so deeply that he nearly overbalanced himself, but he caught himself each time and straightened to his full height on his precarious perch.

"Only this song!" he promised once more, and he drained the tankard in his hand in one long pull, throwing his head back, his goozle bobbing in his throat. Then he tossed the empty tankard down to Hinata and threw his arms wide, signaling the start of his performance. And he sang.

_Give me a sail and sea and a sky._  
 _Give me a star and a wink and a sigh._  
 _Show me the dragon steam rising from tropic isles._  
 _Tell me a story to pass all the sluggish whiles._

_Guide my ship, pilot, straight paths through the Shifting Sea._  
 _Safe course, navigator, your soul flying wild and free._  
 _Lead us well, captain, whatever the day may bring._  
 _Comfort us, first mate, the whole crew your praise to sing._

_Gold is the sail and the sea and the sky;_  
 _Silver, the star and the wink and the sigh._  
 _Treasure from dragons does not surpass tropic isles._  
 _Stories from shipmates give meaning to quiet whiles._

_Sail with me, comrade, to light on a distant shore.  
Give me your dregs of rum. I'll never ask for more._

Terushima's voice was sweet and clear, rising above the clash and the clamor of the tavern. Before the first two lines were sung, almost everyone had fallen silent to listen. The melody rose and fell in a haunting surge, like the swell of the tide. It had the sound of a lullaby to it, but Hinata had never been so excited by the words of a lullaby before. He didn't want to sleep. He wanted to sing and sail and have adventures. He wanted to fly on the wind, wherever the storm might take him. He wanted to be Terushima's comrade, lighting on distant shores and telling each other stories in the deep night watches.

But when the last note fell from Terushima's lips, clear and pure and ringing, a chorus of laughter began to rise and bury the sweetness of the song. "Sure, you'll never ask for more than the dregs of me rum!" someone yelled in cheerful scorn. "Pull t' other 'un, it's got bells on!"

"Pretty lies, pretty lies," Hob bellowed, pounding Terushima on the the back until he tumbled from his perch on the bench and sat amongst the rest of them again.

Terushima grinned, not at all bothered by the scoffing. "But it's a lovely song, isn't it? It suits me, don't you think?"

"I can call it lovely or I can say it suits you, but I can't say both!" hollered Bess, and half the tavern roared with laughter.

"Insult me all you want, but don't insult my song!" Terushima pounded a fist on the table, making the dishware rattle. "It was written for me by a beautiful sea singer bard after I gave her the best tumbling of her life. Her words, her words!" He hastened to add the last, waving his hands, when Bess half-rose from her seat and raised a fist to punch him for his insolence.

Hinata, sitting next to him, leaned over to nudge Terushima with his elbow when most of the laughter had died and the tavern's attention had drifted to something else. "I thought it was lovely, senpai," he said quietly. "And I thought it suited you."

A smile spread over Terushima's face, swift and involuntary, softer and more personal-looking than his usual broad grins. "Thank you, Hinata-chan," he said just as quietly. "You're a good lad."

"Would you sing it again?"

Terushima laughed, glancing around at the noisy tavern crowd. "I don't think you'd be able to hear it."

"Please, please would you sing it again? I'll listen very hard."

Hinata really wasn't sure why he was begging so earnestly. His head was spinning and his eyes were heavy, and the words stumbled and slid against each other in his mouth. Perhaps he was drunk, he considered fuzzily, but the thought was too silly, so he let go. How could you get drunk off one tankard of ale? No, no, he was just engrossed in the songs and the stories and the atmosphere of the tavern. It didn't mean anything. He was just caught up in the moment.

And he really liked Terushima's voice and he really liked that song and he really wanted to hear it again.

"Please?" he asked again, tugging on Terushima's sleeve, and the older teen gave in.

"Aye, one more time." He smiled wide and sweet, his eyes sparkling like stars on a midnight sea, and he sang.

_Give me a sail and a sea and a sky.  
Give me a star and a wink and a sigh..._

That was the last thing Hinata remembered of the tavern. Of last night. Terushima's voice, the smell of rum and ale, the raucous laughter, the odorous, over-warm bodies pressing in all around, the yellow light of the lanterns that had begun to burn in his eyes... It had all faded, slowly and softly and completely, and now he was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Terushima's Song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4GIxjHUz8Hg)


	2. IN WHICH Yamaguchi is a Yamababy, and Hinata decides to adopt him.

Hinata didn't know where _here_ was. He ached and he hurt and his head was still spinning and his stomach was still churning and he was almost completely certain that he was about to throw up all over himself and anyone who happened to be near. But where was he? Why was the room moving? Why did he smell salt and hear gulls crying?

"Where...where am I?" a young voice asked, faint and broken. Hinata turned his head. The voice could have been his—the question certainly was—but it was not him. It was another boy, probably about Hinata's age. They were so close to each other that Hinata could smell his breath, as sour and unpleasant as his own probably was.

With a great effort, Hinata forced his eyes open. He could see the other boy's face very near his own, the boy lying still with his limbs in disarray, as if he'd been dumped in a pile on the wooden floor and hadn't had the energy to sort himself out. His face was round and timid, his eyes wide with distress, and freckles dusted the pale skin of his cheeks. Light trailed down from the ceiling through a grate, shifting as the room shifted and making bars of yellow move over the boy's face. A hammock against the opposite wall swayed and bumped against the rough wooden planking, and Hinata fixated on that, trying to understand what was going on.

"The...the house is moving," Hinata said quietly. If it didn't stop soon, he was going to throw up. He gulped against his nausea, then shut his lips tight to keep it in.

The other boy's eyes widened even more. He tried to push himself along the floor away from Hinata, but didn't have the strength to move himself more than a hand-length or so. "I don't think we're in a house," he whispered, as much to himself as to Hinata.

Rather than open his mouth and risk losing everything he had drunk and eaten for the last fortnight, Hinata just stared at the other boy, trying to question him with his eyes. The boy seemed to understand—he pushed himself up on one elbow and looked around the room, shaking with effort, his face turning even more pale under the tiny brown speckles that painted it. After taking in their surroundings silently for a moment, he nodded in resignation.

"We're on a ship," he informed Hinata, despair in his voice, and then he flopped back down onto the deck.

For yes, it was a deck. Hinata stared around, still trying to force his sluggish brain to catch up. He'd never been on a ship before. But this couldn't be anything else, not with the swaying room, the grate in the ceiling, the hammocks swinging loose against the wall. Plus what was reaching them from outside the room—the smell of salt, the cries of seabirds, the shouts of sailors and officers. The ship was already on the open waves, unmoored from any dock. Hinata knew enough stories of the sea to recognize that much, at least.

Strangely, once he understood what was going on, Hinata's nausea reduced a bit. Sickness still swirled in his stomach and made his head reel, but he no longer felt like he would vomit the instant he parted his lips. He was on a ship, yes. That made sense. Now he understood why everything was moving, why his body and mind were so discombobulated. He just needed to figure out what was going on, and then he could get out and go home.

Hinata found the strength to push himself up onto his hands, and he found his back against a wall where he slumped, sweating and breathing heavily. The boy lying next to him had closed his eyes, his fists clenched as he tried to breathe through what looked like a panic attack. Hinata nudged him with a foot in an attempt at friendliness and support, but could offer nothing else.

They were not the only people in the room. Four or five others also lay on the floor in various positions of unconsciousness or slow recovery. A few were groaning, clutching their stomachs or their heads. One was so still that Hinata couldn't stand to look at him, his eyes slipping away. Hinata couldn't see any sign of the man breathing, and the idea of being in the same room as a dead body was so unnerving as to be unbearable.

The rest of the men in the room were older than Hinata and the boy who lay next to him. They looked like they might be sailors, or at least laborers, their muscles well-developed, their necks thick and faces weathered. The stink of unwashed bodies in the room, of beer and piss and heavy sweat, might have bothered Hinata if he wasn't accustomed to it, having grown up in a poor neighborhood of a working town.

There were still some things Hinata didn't understand, though. A lot of things, actually. Hinata looked at the boy nearby, whom he already considered to be his ally in this strange situation. The boy's eyes were open again, staring at the ceiling and the slanting bars of yellow light coming through the grate. Though his hands were still curled loosely over his stomach, he was no longer pale with terror, and his breath had evened.

"Oi, do you know what's going on?" Hinata asked. He tried to sound casual, tried to keep his own fear from showing. The other boy clearly had enough to deal with. But he'd figured out quicker than Hinata that they were on a ship, so maybe he had an idea of what they'd gotten themselves into.

The boy sluggishly turned his head to look at Hinata. His dark eyes were still wide, but his face was blank. It was as if some part of his mind had shut down, this new reality having overwhelmed him for the moment. "I think we've been conscripted," he said dully. "I heard the Swan was in port, but I never dreamed... I didn't think I would be in danger just walking home from Tsukki's house... They must be, they must be desperate for sailors."

Hinata stared at him. He'd heard of conscription, of course, but like his new ally, he'd never dreamed that he would ever fall victim to it. "Why would they even want us?" he asked. "They usually press merchant sailors, not landsmen with no experience at sea. And aren't we too young?"

The other boy blinked, long and slow. "That's what I thought, but... They'll probably have us work as ship's boys. We'll be the lowest of the low, doing all the jobs that are too dirty or dangerous for more valuable sailors. Like scraping barnacles while the ship is underway, or pumping the bilges. Swabbing the decks, most definitely. And running powder during battles."

Hinata leaned his head back against the wall behind him, considering. That all sounded awful. That was the kind of stuff that usually had him slipping out the back door of his family's flat so he could run the street with his friends. His mother scolded him when he finally came home and usually refused him dinner for being a disobedient, ungrateful brat, but who cared for that? He and his friends found plenty of provender on their own.

The idea of running powder during battles, though... The thought set Hinata's mind aflame with excitement. A real battle! The thunder of guns, the shouts of men, blood and guts and true courage! A pirate flag flying high above an enemy ship, or better yet, a great blue dragon weaving in the sea!

Sure, running gunpowder was dangerous work and nowhere near as fun or as glamorous as actually firing the cannons or fighting with sword and pistol. But he would be an actor in a true battle, a contest of men against men or men against monsters. And Hinata knew he would be good at it. He'd won every footrace he'd ever been in for the past four years, and his gang always won when they started rock fights with other gangs—or if other gangs started them first, either way, it didn't matter.

The other boy looked sick at the prospect, though. He'd turned pale again, his lips pressed thin against each other. Hinata felt sorry for him. Didn't he understand how exciting it would be? How wonderful and vibrant and _alive_ they would feel while carrying out such a task?

"There, there," Hinata said. He scooted closer to the other boy and reached out to pat his shoulder. "Don't look so poorly. It will be all right. I'll be with you! What's your name?"

"I'm Yamaguchi Tadashi," the boy said, almost stumbling over the syllables of his own name. He still looked sick, but he tried to focus on Hinata.

"My name is Hinata Shouyou," Hinata said. "You can call me Hinata, and I'll call you Yamaguchi, aye? We'll be friends."

"Aye." Yamaguchi nodded.

Something lit in his eyes, some spark of resolve, and he finally started to lift himself up again. He got his elbows underneath his body, and Hinata grabbed his shoulders and helped him up the rest of the way. Finally, they were both sitting up, staring around the little room.

"So we're on a ship," Hinata said. "And we've been conscripted. What d’you think will happen next?"

Yamaguchi eyed the men who shared the space with them doubtfully. None of the others had tried to get up yet. "They'll probably give us some time to recover," he said. "Looks like you and I got up the fastest, might be because we're young and all, but I truly hope they don't put us to work at once. I'll probably pitch right over the railing if they put me on deck now."

"Aye." Hinata nodded. He was pressing his hands against his stomach, he realized. He couldn’t remember when he’d started doing that. "There's something called 'sea legs,' and it takes you a while to get them. Where do they come from?"

Yamaguchi blinked. "Um. That's a metaphor."

"A what?"

"A...a phrase to describe something. 'Sea legs' means your body getting used to the ocean and all so you don't get seasick anymore and you can walk on the deck without falling over. Eventually it becomes a habit. Did you never notice how sailors on shore always walk with their legs spread apart, like they expect the world to pitch and yaw at any moment? We haven't spent any time on a ship, so our bodies won't be used to it."

Hinata tilted his head, staring at the other boy in astonishment. Yamaguchi just might be the smartest person he'd ever met.

Yamaguchi passed a hand over his sweating forehead. "Plus I bet we're all feeling sick from whatever they did to us."

"What they did to us? What do you mean?"

Yamaguchi stared at him. "You didn't notice? I...I thought... That is, I guess I assumed..."

Hinata raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"It's called...conscription. The press." Yamaguchi rubbed his hands nervously over his stomach. "It's not voluntary." He nodded toward the other men passed out on the floor. "I'll bet some of them were knocked in the head, or a drug was slipped into their drink at the tavern."

Yamaguchi stared at his lap, unable to meet Hinata's eyes. His words came slowly but steadily. "Me, I was walking down a dark street, and someone put a cloth over my face. It smelled...really bad. And I knew... I knew it was ether or something like that. But it happened so fast I couldn't get away before it was already smothering me. Someone grabbed my arms and held me. I tried to fight, but they held me down, and that awful smell overwhelmed me. Eventually everything went away. The next I knew, I was here."

Hinata covered his mouth with his hand, trying to take in this awful story. He could see Yamaguchi shaking in the grip of the memory. After a moment, he reached out and patted his shoulder again. It seemed like the only thing to do.

Yamaguchi shook his head from side to side, dismissing it all, and looked up into Hinata's face. His eyes were round and calm once more. "What happened to you? What's the last thing you remember before you woke up here?"

"Well..." Hinata rubbed a hand over his chin. He didn't really want to admit to a near-stranger that he'd been messing around in a place he shouldn't have messing and apparently paid the proper price for it. But Yamaguchi had shared his own story, so it only seemed fair.

Hinata drew in a breath. "I went to a tavern down by the docks. I live in Yukigaoka. Or I did. You too, right? We both got picked up in the same place, didn't we?"

Yamaguchi shook his head. "I'm from Karasuno. That's just one town over, though. They must have sent conscripters all around the area when the Swan's captain decided they needed more sailors."

Hinata nodded in acceptance. Something occurred to him, though. "Oi, what makes you so sure that we're on the Swan?"

"It's the only navy ship that was in port anywhere nearby, last I heard," Yamaguchi said. "Conscription is only legal for the navy. Otherwise this would be kidnapping."

"But we still coulda been kidnapped, not conscripted," Hinata felt obligated to point out. "In which case we'd be justified in trying to escape."

But Yamaguchi's eyes darkened with terror at that idea, and the low-level shivering that had possessed his body for this entire time increased by several degrees. "I th-think I'd rather believe we've been c-conscripted," he said. "If—if we've been kidnapped, there's no telling what could happen to us. We could be sold as s-slaves. Or worse."

Hinata's eyes widened. He didn't even want to ask what the "or worse" could be. He wasn't sure he wanted Yamaguchi to tell him. "Oh. Aye. I'm sure we've been conscripted by the Swan. It makes the most sense, doncha think?"

Yamaguchi nodded frantically. He waved a hand in Hinata's direction. "A-anyway, you were telling me what happened to you."

"Aye, aye." Hinata's shoulders fell down from around his ears. "S-so I went to a tavern down by the docks, and... I had some ale."

Yamaguchi nodded. When Hinata did not immediately continue, he gestured with one hand, urging him on. "You had some ale, and...?"

"And I had some more ale." Hinata was mumbling now. He could feel himself blushing and he hated it. "I had a great deal of ale, you understand?"

"Did someone put something in your drink?"

Hinata frowned. "I don't think so. I think I woulda noticed."

"Aye, aye. Was there anyone supplying you with ale, then? Keeping your tankard full?"

Hinata halted for a moment, considering. It was all a blur. He was pretty sure several people had been keeping his tankard full, though he could no longer remember why. Because something about him had amused them, perhaps? Simply because they had the money to spend and he was willing to accept it? He didn't know.

"There was...there was one sailor..." he said, sifting through his memories of that tumultuous night. "A youngish lad, though older than you and me. His name was Terushima, and he had a very fine voice. I think he took a liking to me for some reason. Anyway, he sat by me, and indeed my tankard was never empty for long."

"I've heard stories like that." Yamaguchi's eyes were round. "Of innocent folks like you being taken in by charming strangers and fooled into letting their guard down."

"I'm not that innocent!" Hinata said.

Yamaguchi shook his head. "But still and all. It could have been so. He could have been fooling you."

Hinata scowled down at the deck. He didn't want to believe it. He had liked Terushima. The older youth had filled his mind with unknown dreams and images, and Hinata had very much enjoyed listening to him sing.

"Now, now," Yamaguchi said, patting the air between them. "Don't look so downhearted, Hinata. It might not be true. It might have been that you just drank too much ale, as you said, and someone else saw a chance to take advantage of your state."

"Aye." Hinata looked up, his heart lightening again. "It might have been that way."

"In any case, when they let us out of here and we meet the rest of the crew, you'll know then. If Terushima is on this ship, you'll know for certain and sure that he was sent as a conscripter. If he's not here, it might have been just bad luck and all."

Hinata nodded thoughtfully, remembering the young sailor's outlandish appearance, his fancy hat and his many piercings. "He surely didn't look much like a navyman. If anything, he seemed like a pirate in all his ragged finery."

Yamaguchi did not look convinced by this. "If he was on shore, though, he might have been dressing in his civvies. Plenty of navymen wear roguish outfits when ashore."

Hinata looked at him with interest. "Did you see a lot of navymen in Karasuno, then? We rarely saw such in Yukigaoka. Most of the ships in our harbor were whalers and merchant vessels. It surely was a great thing to have the Swan in our port for a time. That’s why Izumi and Kouji and I went down to the dockside, and then we saw that tavern."

Yamaguchi managed a smile, soft and far-away, as if he was viewing pleasant memories in the lens of his mind. “We saw a fair number of navymen, aye. Tsukki and I used to sit on the wharf and watch the ships come in and the sailors descend on the shore like flocks of hungry gulls. He enjoyed mocking them for their frippery, and I enjoyed listening to his japes. He was rarely so talkative. It was fun to listen to him."

At this Yamaguchi sighed, deep and longing. He pressed a hand to his chest as if it pained him, and he stared down at the floor.

Hinata ached, too, watching his new friend. He reached out and patted Yamaguchi's bent head. "You miss your comrade, aye, 'tis plain to see. But think how wonderful it will be to return to shore and tell him about your adventures! We're crewmen on a navy ship now—we're going to do a thousand deeds and see a thousand sights! Your family and your friends will all eat their hearts out with envy to listen to your tales."

Yamaguchi looked up at Hinata, his eyes lighting deep within. And he smiled again, soft once more, but present, for Hinata and not for his vanished companion. "You're a kind lad, Hinata Shouyou. If I had to be conscripted on a navy vessel and taken far from my home and all, I'm glad at least for the chance to be your shipmate."

Hinata grinned at this, a wide and uncomplicated grin that showed for nothing but pure joy. "I feel the same about you, Yamaguchi. We're going to be grand friends, I'm sure of it."

Terushima's song had spoken of shipmates and the bonds between companions at sea. It was one of the lines that had tugged at Hinata's heart and filled his mind with images of treasures unsought for, untasted. Though he had never dreamed of going to sea before last night, now that he found himself there, he was not finding it to be unpleasant. Indeed, though a corner of his being ached with loss at being torn from his home and family and friends so swiftly and irrevocably, a much larger portion of his spirit was filled with only excitement and optimism, viewing the days ahead with nothing but eagerness to experience them all.

Hinata pressed his hands over his stomach, feeling his abdomen tenderly. "I don't feel quite so sick anymore," he said thoughtfully. "I think I could stand, if I tried."

Yamaguchi stared at him. "Don't push yourself too hard."

"No, I really do think I'm better."

Hinata pressed his back to the wall behind him and levered himself up onto his unsteady pegs. Once standing, he swayed, blinking and staring about the close, stifling room as his head swooped and his eyes struggled to focus. Standing, the horrendous vertigo was even worse, more pressing and sickening.

After a few moments to find his balance, though, Hinata's world began to steady. He still felt queasy and wobbly, but he no longer believed with utter certainty that he would vomit all over the deck if he took a step. Despite Yamaguchi's protests and waving hands and insistence that he sit down again, he took one step forward, then another. Hinata was immensely pleased when he neither fell on his face nor upchucked his last twenty meals.

Instead, he turned to Yamaguchi with a bright, encouraging grin. "It's all right! My stomach is still heaving like a sick dog, but I can stand and walk. Come along now, you should try too!"

Yamaguchi's skin became even more pale under his freckles, and he shook his head in frantic negation. Hinata refused to be gainsaid, however. He reached down for Yamaguchi's hand and seized it in both of his, then began to pull, bending his knees and leaning backward with all his strength as if playing tug-o-war in the street with his gang.

"Get along, Yamaguchi! Up with you! We must see what's on deck, doncha think? I'd much rather be out in the sun then shut down here for even a moment longer. We'll be able to see the gulls, and you can mock the sailors for their finery!"

"That was Tsukki," Yamaguchi said, his voice high-pitched with anxiety. "And we're at sea now, they're not going to be wearing any finery while they tend the sails."

"Up with you!" Hinata cried, ignoring this. "Up with you, Yamaguchi, and face the new day and the new life we've landed in!"

Half-bullying, half-cajoling, Hinata finally chivvied Yamaguchi to his feet. Once standing, Yamaguchi swayed. He clutched at Hinata's shoulders, fingers clenching tight in the threadbare fabric of his shirt, and what little color he'd had in his face quickly drained away. Hinata held onto his elbows and almost started to question whether or not he should have dragged Yamaguchi to his feet after all.

After a little while, though, Yamaguchi found his balance. A tinge of pink came back to his cheeks, and he opened his eyes and loosened his grip on Hinata's shirt, one finger at a time. Hinata had a moment to notice that Yamaguchi was actually quite tall, almost an entire head taller than Hinata. But Yamaguchi comported himself with such gentle shyness and slump-shouldered uncertainty that Hinata wasn't jealous of his height at all. If anything, he felt himself to be quite definitely the larger and the stronger of the two of them.

This did not make him despise Yamaguchi or look down on him for his weakness. Instead, though he was not sure of the age difference between them and Yamaguchi could have been older for all he knew, Hinata felt that he had gained a little brother, not just a friend. And so he gave Yamaguchi his biggest and brightest smile and squeezed his arms in protective support.

"All right now?" he asked. "Sea legs starting to come in?"

Yamaguchi smiled back, thin but genuine. It made his soft, honest face seem to glow. "All right now," he echoed. "Thank you."

Hinata let go of him with one hand, though he kept the other wrapped around Yamaguchi's arm, and pivoted on his foot to look around the room. "Aye, then...what's next?"

Yamaguchi looked, too, a sharp light of intelligence brightening his eye. Hinata was glad to see it. Yamaguchi looked at the door, narrowing his eyes, then looked to Hinata again. "Want to break down a door?"

Hinata grinned. "Aye! That will be our first adventure!"

Walking was not as easy as standing had been. The two boys stumbled drunkenly to the door over the tilting deck, clutching each other to remain upright. When they reached the door, Hinata and Yamaguchi eyed it doubtfully, uncertain how they were going to even hit it with their hands, much less try to kick it to break it down.

Before they could try, though, the door swung open. A young man with a sun-browned face stood on the other side, grinning a fierce, sharp-toothed grin. He wore a navy cap at an angle over his close-shorn hair, and his bare chest and stomach showed through the opening of his uniform shirt, off-white and stained in places. His stance was wide on the deck, almost aggressive, and Hinata knew immediately that here was a sailor who already had his sea legs.

"Hello, little shipmates! Welcome to the Swan!" he bellowed in cheerful greeting. "I see you've stirred your pegs much earlier than those layabouts who came in with ya!" He waved a hand dismissively at the men still lying on the floor behind Hinata and Yamaguchi.

The lads glanced back at the "layabouts," but the men barely reacted to the insult. One only twitched unhappily, while another pressed his hand over his eyes to block out the light. Hinata and Yamaguchi looked back to the sailor in the hallway.

"Hello, shipmate," Hinata replied, bold as brass, staring at the stranger with wide eyes.

"Wahahaha!" The sailor threw back his head and laughed at the ceiling so loudly that Yamaguchi flinched and tried to hide behind Hinata, hunching his shoulders in alarm. Hinata just stared at the sailor, transfixed.

"You’re a brave one!" the sailor said, looking back at Hinata and wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. His grin was as broad and fierce as ever. "You can call me Tanaka-senpai, little shipmate, and I swear that I will protect ya and guide ya as a good senpai should."

Hinata blinked. And then he grinned, whipping his head around to beam at Yamaguchi in excitement. Yamaguchi stared back, pale and wan, and Hinata returned his gaze to the young sailor. "Tanaka-senpai!" he cried. "Please take care of us! Teach your kouhai, Hinata Shouyou and Yamaguchi Tadashi, the best way to live at sea!"

"And so I will, Hinata and Yamaguchi!" Tanaka reached into the room and laid a hand, warm and strong, on each of their shoulders. He ushered them out of the suffocating, foul-smelling room and into the better air of the hallway. "Come with me, my dear kouhai! I'll give ya a tour of your new home."


	3. IN WHICH Tanaka is a teller of tales and also is an excellent senpai.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter exists solely as another data point for my theory that Tanaka Ryuunosuke is the best senpai in this or any other universe.

"Tanaka-senpai, can you tell us about the Seacrow again?"

The hammocks swayed gently with the rocking of the ship upon the waves. The sea was kind tonight, and the waves were not too rough. Even Yamaguchi was comfortable and at peace, snuggling into his hammock on his side, his face turned toward Hinata and Tanaka with his eyes half-shut and face peaceful with dreaming.

Hinata wiggled around to watch their senpai, too. Tanaka never tired of talking about the Seacrow, and Hinata and Yamaguchi never tired of hearing about it. The snores and sleeping breaths of the crew around them faded into the background, mingling with the ever-present _hush_ and _shurr_ of the waves

Tanaka smiled, a soft smile, teeth hidden away behind his curving lips. His eyes fell shut, then opened halfway in a long, slow blink. "The Seacrow..." he murmured.

 _The Seacrow..._ Hinata thought, the cadence matching Tanaka's voice. Tanaka always said the name like this, reverent and lingering, savoring the feel of the syllables in his mouth.

"The Seacrow is a ship of pirates, but it is more than that. The sailors who crew the Seacrow don't lust for gold and treasure the way most pirates do. Oh, they'll take their pay where they can find it, and they'll fight like devils for it, too. Many is the ship that has fallen to their hands for little more than the trade goods in their hold. But the Seacrow and her crew don't seek gold for the sake of it. They only need enough to keep sailing, and perhaps a little extra set by for a wild party now and again ashore.

"Nay, it's not gold that the Seacrow seeks. It's liberty. Her crew are all children of the sea and the sky, perhaps not born there, but drawn like migrating birds, seeking where they belong. The Seacrow has long been a ship of legend, though they say that in recent years she's begun to lag and lose her luster. They say the Seacrow used to soar over the waves like a bird on the wing, but now she only plods, cutting through the water like a man trudging through snow.

"But I don't believe that. Nay, I know that the Seacrow is still a high-flyer. Her crew has aged and grown and been replaced, and perhaps those who rule her now were not even sailing when the legends first began. But all who sail on that ship belong to her, for certain and sure. All who sail on the Seacrow are children of liberty who want only to be free."

Hinata smiled, ducking his mouth below the edge of the hammock where his companions would not see. He could feel sleep drawing him in, wrapping around him with arms warm and welcoming. But Tanaka's voice, murmuring along just a touch louder than the background noise of the sea, kept him tethered to wakefulness, hanging on each word.

"And what did the Seacrow do in those days of legend to earn her reputation for flight and freedom?" Hinata asked. He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear Tanaka say it again.

"Ah, such a simple question that seems, my dear kouhai," Tanaka said, playfulness lightening his sleep-worn voice. "In truth the answer is many-fold. First and foremost, of course, is the fact that the Seacrow was known far and wide as an enemy of all slavers.

"They say that there was a time when the slavers feared the Aritossa Archipelago. They knew to stay away, for the Seacrow plowed the waters there, ever-vigilant. Her captain then, the one they called the Small Giant, hated slavers with every atom of his being. No one knows why. Perhaps he once had a sister or a brother who was taken by slavers. Or a lover. Or even a friend. Perhaps he was simply born with a dual nature too fierce for the sea and sky to hold—the twin fires of love for liberty and hatred for those who would dare to take it from others.

"In any case, the Small Giant and the Seacrow fought slavers everywhere they found them. And they always won. It shouldn't have been possible. Every ship has a weakness. Every crew has their off days. Some of the slavers that ply the waters are exceedingly strong, backed by their governments and by the hungry slave-buying nations on the other side of the sea. And yet the Seacrow won. And won. And won."

"Did they ever stop winning?" Hinata asked, soft and smiling. He waited for Tanaka to say "No!" in a whispered shout, to wave his hands in belligerent rejection. He waited for his senpai's laughing, teasing voice, for his light-hearted tale to sail on like a cutter, flitting over the waves.

But Tanaka was silent. The moment stretched on for a heartbeat too long, and Hinata opened his eyes to stare at the sailor in the other hammock. His heart began to pound. Could it really be...?

But then Tanaka answered, solemn and slow. "Only once. But there's no need to talk about that. No, let me tell you the other reason the Seacrow became a legend."

Hinata settled back down into his comfy cocoon, his eyes sliding shut. He loved this part of the story.

"The Seacrow didn't only fight ships, ya know. They battled navy ships of the line and merchant vessels when they needed to drum up some goods to keep soul and body together. And they fought every slaver that dared come near the Archipelago. But there was one other entity they fought that meant more than all of the others combined."

A fraught, expectant silence settled over the three young sailors. Each of them was waiting for one of the others to say it, to break the word that made them all shiver with mingled fear and delight. Hinata hunched his shoulders tight and pressed his lips together, determined not to be the one to say it. It was _always_ him. He could _never_ be patient enough. The tension built, and built, and then...

"Dragons," Yamaguchi said. His voice was a hushed murmur, the word huffed out in a breathless rush of air. He curled his arms up against his chest, almost hugging himself, and if there was more fear than delight in his expression, Hinata and Tanaka had more than enough delight to make up for his lack.

"Aye, dragons," Tanaka said with great and dramatic relish. He loved this part of the story as much as Hinata did. "The Seacrow fought dragons.

"And dragons are hard to find. They curl up amongst the islands of the Shifting Sea like burrowing crabs hiding in the sand. The vast company of those who sail the sea 'round these parts have never seen a dragon, that's how good they be at hidin'. It's said that dragons can blend into the sky like clouds, and they hide the fire of their bodies in the volcanic rifts that litter the smaller isles. And not only does the sea move, but the dragons move themselves, never staying long on a single isle. 'Tis like playing a shell game with a thousand shells and a hundred beans, none ever staying still and all changing constantly. That's what it's like to seek dragons in the Aritossa Archipelago.

"But the Seacrow had an advantage. They had a marvelous navigator."

 _Navigator._ Another word that was freighted with mystery and myth. You couldn’t tell a tale about the Shifting Sea without speaking of the navigators, those special folks who had some extra touch to their spirits, something that let them see farther than ordinary sight. No ship in the Aritossa Archipelago would dare leave sight of land without a skilled navigator, for that ship might never return again. In other parts of the world, where the land and sea did not constantly shift and move, people could use maps to get around. But in the Shifting Sea, you had to have a navigator.

“Now, most would say that a marvelous navigator would be one who led you on the safest path through the Shifting Sea, avoiding all the shoals and hidden rocks. Or perhaps a navigator who could show you the quickest route between the populated islands to bring your goods to market in the swiftest and the cheapest way. Or at the very least a navigator who could keep you from getting lost, and even that is not always an easy feat in these parts.

“But the Seacrow’s navigator was different. When people describe the wonders of navigators and the way they can extend their senses beyond the realm of ordinary men, they say things like ‘he has an eye for danger,’ or ‘he can feel the sea’. But of the Seacrow’s navigator, the saying was a bit different."

"What was it?" Hinata asked. He was fully drawn into the rhythm of the tale now, giving the familiar responses, participating in the telling. "What did people say?"

"They said, 'He has a nose for dragons.'"

Hinata grinned, his eyes falling shut. A nose for dragons! The thought made him shiver in something like dread and something like excitement.

"That doesn't sound very safe and all," Yamaguchi said doubtfully, chiming in as he always did at this point.

"Well, that's because it wasn't," Tanaka said with heartless cheer, ignoring the fear in Yamaguchi's voice. "The Seacrow's navigator didn't lead them to safety. The Seacrow's navigator led them into danger. And that was the way they liked it. At the height of their prowess, the Seacrow fought two or three dragons a year. Completely unheard of. Even ships that sought dragons deliberately were lucky to find one every three years or so. ‘Course, only the truly mad seek dragons."

Hinata and Yamaguchi were silent, absorbing this. At this part of the story, Hinata usually asked for more details, for stories about dragon fights on tiny isles, for tales of aerial battle and the worth of a single dragon scale. The reason the Seacrow had stopped fighting dragons after a few years was too dull and uninteresting for words, and Hinata didn't want to hear that part again. He just wanted to hear the exciting parts.

But this time his mind snagged, and all he could think was one thing. It came out of his mouth on the breath of a sigh, soft and wistful and almost buried in the sound of the sea. "I wish I'd been a sailor on their crew."

Tanaka was quiet. This was not the usual pattern; he had no answer ready to his lips. They had built up this shared story over nights and nights of peaceful talk, Tanaka-senpai soothing the youngsters to sleep with his stories and songs and the rough, kind timbre of his voice. In a moment he would compose an answer, and the next time Hinata took this route he would be ready with the next part of the tale. But tonight, he was quiet.

And then he answered. "I did too."

Hinata and Yamaguchi were stunned into silence. After a moment, Yamaguchi dragged himself half upright in his hammock, staring at Tanaka over the canvas edge. "You did?" His eyes were so wide that Hinata could see the whites of them, even in the dimness of the sleeping quarters they shared with a dozen other sailors.

Tanaka murmured an assent. Suddenly his voice was wistful, too, no longer the confident and sturdy teller of tales, the strong, protective senpai that Hinata had begun to think of as "nii-san" in the hidden parts of his heart. "Aye, so I did. I meant to ship out with the Seacrow. Three years it's been, now, but that was my dream. The next time they came back to Karasuno, I was going to ask for a berth with the crew. I didn't even want pay. I just wanted to sail with them."

Hinata couldn't speak. A lump had risen in his throat, choking off speech. In the hammock across the way, Yamaguchi looked just as stricken as Hinata felt. "What happened?"

"Mm. I suppose I spent too much time hanging about the docks, watching for the Seacrow to return. Karasuno used to be her home port, you know. I suppose my face became too well-known. The sailors knew I was easy pickings. And my mouth was too free, so they knew I had no parents, only a nee-san who couldn't control me. When next the Swan came to call, I was bulled aboard and conscripted before I knew what had happened. And here I was and here I remain."

"You were conscripted, too," Yamaguchi murmured. He sank back down into his hammock and curled into himself.

"You don't seem any different than the rest of the crew," Hinata said. The tale was abandoned, now. He wanted to know about Tanaka Ryuunosuke, not the Seacrow and her fights with dragons.

"Well, I'm not. Many of us are conscripts. We're full members of the crew. Conscripts will never be officers, to be sure, and the captain will never fully trust us. Even our leaves ashore are monitored, which you'll discover next time we're in port for supplies. But the true difference is that if a volunteer deserts, he'll be stripped of his rank and lose his pay. But if we desert, the penalty is hanging."

Hinata shivered. Tanaka's voice was matter-of-the-fact, simply relating the truth of the world. Hinata and Yamaguchi had been told all of this in the first day, but they'd been unable to fully absorb it. He had vague memories of documents and signatures, being told that he had signed his name to a commission even though he had no memory of doing so, but that entire day had been a blur. Tanaka had guided them through it all, strong and supportive and steering them around obstacles they would have broken their noses on if he hadn't been there.

Hinata wondered, now, if someone had been there to do that for Tanaka. Or had he been alone, forced to adjust to his terrifying new situation all on his own? Perhaps that was why he had taken Hinata and Yamaguchi under his wing so quickly and completely.

"Well, and it's not so hopeless as all that," Tanaka said a bit too loudly, earning an "Oi!" of displeasure from a sailor roused by his voice. The cheer in his voice sounded forced, though. When he spoke again, it was softer, though no less firm and decided. "It's not hopeless, dear kouhai. The commission is five years. When mine is over, I'll seek the Seacrow again. And this time I'll find her. I swear I will."

Hinata believed him. But his heart ached at the idea of losing Tanaka's company. How would he and Yamaguchi survive on the Swan without him?

"You said it's been three years," Yamaguchi said softly. "How old were you when they conscripted you and all?"

"It was a month or two before my thirteenth birthday. So I was only a little younger than you."

"Then you were a powder boy, were you?"

"Aye." Tanaka was silent for a moment. "We do seem to be always in need of powder boys."

Neither Hinata nor Yamaguchi asked why. They already knew, and their minds shied away from the knowledge, trying not to touch it strongly enough to feel it. Better to focus on the excitement of battle, rather than the aftermath, the consequences.

Yet Yamaguchi could not stop talking. This was the first time Tanaka had spoken about his past, the first time they had learned that they had a senpai who had experienced what they were going through. Now every question that burned in Yamaguchi's heart, itching and hurting and never satisfied, could finally find a place to rest. "How many battles did you see as a powder boy?"

"Six. And aye, they were terrible. But ya don't feel the terror while you're in them. You just do what you must do. You feel the fear after, when you're safe in your bunk. That's the best way to feel it. It won't be as awful as you're expecting, Yama-chan. You'll make it through."

The kindness in Tanaka's voice almost took Hinata's breath away. He understood why Tanaka hadn't told them before that he had been a powder boy. He'd been letting Yamaguchi get used to the basics of their new life before he discussed the more frightening parts. But now that he had the chance, Tanaka would do everything he could to help their timid companion cope. Hinata would too, he resolved at once.

"We'll make it through," Hinata said in a fierce whisper. "We'll make it through because we're strong and tough and fast. I'll be by your side through anything that happens, and Tanaka-senpai will be near, too, looking out for us."

Yamaguchi let out a shaky breath. "Aye."

Hinata grinned. "Besides, Captain Ushijima is the fiercest navyman alive, that's what they say. The enemies will turn about when we give them a single volley! That'll end it right quick, and all will be well."

This time Yamaguchi huffed in amusement. "Aye."

"They took me off powder duty when I got too tall to hide easily behind the balustrades," Tanaka said. "And I'm by no means a tall man. You, Yama-chan, are already shooting up like a palm tree. Ya won't be a powder boy for long. So don't fear. All will be well."

They fell silent. None of them wanted to point out the other side of this—that Hinata was small and short for his age and likely to remain so for a long time. Unless he hit a sudden growth spurt, he would be a powder boy through many battles, far more than Yamaguchi. Far more than Tanaka.

Hinata did his best to hold on to his early excitement. He was going to get to participate in battles. As a powder boy, his skills were key. He would be running gunpowder from the armory to the cannons. The gunmen would always be glad to see him. He would always be important, always be necessary. Hinata was strong and fast, and his reflexes were excellent. He had nothing fear. He just had...a lot of excitement to look forward to. That was all.

"All will be well," Tanaka said again, the words backed by an iron will to make them true. "I'll be looking out for ya. For both of ya. So all will be well."

After another long moment, Hinata drew a long breath. "Senpai, tell me about the Seacrow."

"Oh, aye," Tanaka's voice was warm in the dark. "The Seacrow..."

And they told the familiar tale once again.


	4. IN WHICH Hinata and Yamaguchi begin to learn about their new life at sea.

Life aboard a navy frigate was neither as awful as Yamaguchi had feared nor as exciting as Hinata had hoped. Mostly it was a lot of hard work: drills, drills, and more drills. They were expected to learn the basics of the ship, not with training so much as being thrown right into it. and they did indeed swab the decks. The main part of the day was training with their assigned gun crews, carrying their heavy cartridges from the magazine to the gundeck and back again. Hinata's strength and speed stood him well in such exercises, but Yamaguchi struggled. And by the end of several hours of incessant running, being shouted at and cuffed for any hint of lagging, even Hinata began to run out of energy and optimism.

But they were not ill-treated and bullied, at least not as a general rule, as Yamaguchi had seemed to expect. True, they were at the bottom of the ship's hierarchy, below even the other powder boys since they were newest and the youngest. Most of the older sailors considered them a nuisance underfoot, and a casual box about the ears for being in the way fell on Hinata regularly. In that respect, at least, Yamaguchi fared a bit better—he was much more skilled than Hinata at fading into the background. This was not calculated cruelty or purposeful harassment, just a consequence of being small and unimportant on a great, big ship with a great, big crew, all much too busy and much too rough to bother with two young boys new to the sea. The exception being, of course and always, Tanaka-senpai.

The Swan had more than a dozen powder boys when Hinata and Yamaguchi were brought aboard. They were greeted early in the first day by a small group of them, all a year or two older than the new recruits and beginning to outgrow their role. They looked at Yamaguchi and Hinata with mingled curiosity and disdain. The oldest of the group, Yokote, was still very short, but the others were growing into gangly adolescence. 

Yokote was sharp-eyed and sharp-smiled, given to pushing his overlong hair back out of his face as the breeze tossed it about. He narrowed in on Hinata immediately, giving him a stare-down the moment they met that Hinata did not understand at all. Hinata stood gap-mouthed under the scrutiny, more in awe than anything, for here was an experienced sailor who had been doing Hinata's new job for years.

Yokote stalked closer to Yamaguchi and Hinata, who were standing alone on the deck, abandoned for the moment as Tanaka had duties to attend to after he gave them their first tour of their new home. Yamaguchi trembled at Hinata's side, shrinking back, but Hinata didn't move. He stared at Yokote in confusion and wonder.

Yokote leaned in to stare into Hinata's face. Though he was only a few centimeters taller than Hinata, he carried himself as if he was ten times as large. To Hinata, he had the dignity and presence of an admiral commanding twenty fleets of warships. 

"Let's get one thing clear straight away," Yokote said, staring into Hinata's eyes without blinking. "If you do not obey my orders to the letter, you will die the instant the Swan joins another ship in battle. You may think you're strong and fast, you may have been admired and victorious in whatever pisshole you came from. But you're on the Swan, now, and things have changed. You're a tiny fish in a big ocean, and you'd do well to listen to what I have to tell you."

Hinata flushed at this. He had, in fact, thought that he was strong and fast. He was used to being among the most athletic in his neighborhood, victorious in almost every physical game he took up. But he wasn't as stupid as Yokote seemed to think he was. He knew he wasn't in Yukigaoka anymore. He knew things would be different here, and he had a lot to learn. From everyone.

"Aye, senpai," he said, giving a nod he thought to be almost military, swift and precise. "I'll listen to everything you tell me. I take orders well, you'll see."

Something hard in Yokote's eyes went a touch gentler, though it was more like a porcupine lowering half its needles than a rough sea smoothing out to glassy clarity. He leaned back on his heels and rested his hands on his hips. "Do you mean that? Will you follow through? It's easy to say now that you'll be a good little shipmate and do as you're told, but when the battle begins, when the cannons roar and the splinters fly, will you stand true or will you fold to your knees like a coward?"

"I'll stand true!" Hinata declared, puffing himself up and pounding himself on the chest.

Yokote raised one eyebrow, and Hinata deflated, his arm falling to his side again. "Well, I'll do my best."

A hint of a smile twitched Yokote's lips. "Aye, you will. We'll see to it that you will."

Having received satisfactory respect from Hinata, Yokote flicked his gaze to Yamaguchi. "And you? Will you stand firm in battle? This ship depends on us. Without an adequate supply of powder, every battle will fail, and we'll all die, consumed by the sea and the brigands who sail it. You look like a wimp. What colors will you show when the stakes are high?"

Yamaguchi quailed, hunching down behind Hinata's shoulder. But then something happened. A change swept over him, subtle but strong, like the shift of a tide. He stood straight and looked Yokote in the eye for the first time.

"I won't run," he said, a touch of iron in his voice. 

Hinata looked back at him, eyebrows rising in appreciation. Yamaguchi still seemed to be trembling, and his stance was weak and unbalanced enough that a gentle shove to his elbow would knock him straight over. But he looked back at Yokote without blinking, and his jaw was firm. There was something behind his eyes, something firm and mighty. Something both Yokote and Hinata could see, though it was nearly defeated, nearly drowned, by the quiver in his voice. 

Yokote looked Yamaguchi up and down in assessment, his eyes heavy-lidded but not dismissive. After a long moment of contemplation, his lips quirked in a smile. "I supposed we'll just have to wait and see."

Hinata bristled, but Yokote spun on his heel and sauntered off, his taller companions snickering along behind him. Hinata moved as if to chase him down and tell him off, but Yamaguchi stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He shook his head slowly from side to side when Hinata paused and looked back at him.

"It's all right," Yamaguchi said. "I'm not insulted. We truly will have to wait and see if I can live up to what I just said... I don't know, myself."

Hinata wrapped his hand around Yamaguchi's wrist and squeezed hard. "Of course you won't run, Yamaguchi. You're braver than you think you are."

Yamaguchi just shook his head again, and that was that.

Later, the new recruits lined up on desk while Captain Ushijima inspected them from the forecastle, his hands clasped behind his back. The captain's shoulders were broad, and the feather in his hat bobbed in the breeze. Metal glittered on his shoulders and on his chest, the insignia and marks of a well-decorated navyman. His face was stern and set, and there was a darkness in his eyes that frightened and fascinated Hinata in equal measure.

"That's him," Yamaguchi murmured to Hinata, his lips barely moving at he stared at the captain without blinking. "That's the captain they say is the best naval officer in all the Archipelago. They say no one can stand against him, whether in a ship-to-ship battle or man to man. He's too strong. He downs every opponent who ever faces him with a single blow, crushing and overwhelming them before they can answer back."

Hinata stared up at the captain, Yamaguchi's words washing over him like icy waves. He'd heard of the Swan and of Captain Ushijima, of course, but he'd never paid much attention to the tales. Now he wished he had. He'd never seen such an imposing figure in all his days.

A much smaller figure stepped up beside the captain, also looking over the gathered sailors. Yamaguchi's breath caught. "Could it be...? I think, I think that might be Captain Ushijima's navigator. They say no one ever sees him. They say he's too precious to be allowed out in the weather, so the captain keeps him shut up in the cabin all the time. The way people talk about him, it's like he's as much a pet as a crewmate."

The guy who might be Ushijima's navigator had the appearance to match the stories—small, slight, pale from living out of the sun. Every other face on the entire ship—including Hinata's and Yamaguchi's—had more coloring and weathering than the navigator's. But he moved up beside the captain with no hesitation, stepping into Ushijima's space. And Ushijima didn't even twitch at the invasion. They must have known each other well.

The navigator nudged Ushijima's arm with his elbow and leaned up to say something in his ear. Hinata couldn't hear the words, but he saw the captain's eyes narrow. He glanced at his navigator and said something back, his expression indifferent. The navigator repeated what he'd said, a bit more vigorously.

Captain Ushijima let out a breath and faced the gathered sailors again. His broad shoulders slumped, no longer completely square against the bright blue of the sky behind him. "Apparently I am supposed to say something now," he said.

The sailors became still and silent, those that had been fidgeting or muttering going rigid in attention. The captain raised his voice not one iota, and yet the sound reached every centimeter of the deck with no effort at all. His voice was deep and rough and attention-grabbing, yet also strangely flat.

"So I will say this, and only this," Ushijima said. "Fight for me. What I tell you to do, you do. That is life aboard the Swan. Do not forget it. You're in the navy now, and you are my men."

The sailors waited, expecting more. Wasn't a captain supposed to be inspirational? Wasn't he supposed to motivate his underlings to rouse their emotions for use in the fight? Wasn't he supposed to be charismatic and interesting and...well...not quite such a clod?

But the captain said nothing else. He nodded to the gathered crew, stiffly, once, then turned and plodded away, his boots making such sounds on the deck that it seemed that a giant was stomping over the ship. The navigator, behind him, rolled his eyes, then bowed to the sailors and hurried after the captain. And that was it. That was Hinata and Yamaguchi's introduction to the Swan.

All in all, it was a strange day. Hinata did not know whether to be glad or disappointed to find that Terushima was not among the Swan's sailors. He was glad because it was a clue in favor of Terushima _not_ being a conscripter who had fooled Hinata into liking him and enjoying his company. But he was disappointed because this meant that Hinata was not Terushima's shipmate, and he was very unlikely to ever again hear Terushima sing that song Hinata had enjoyed so much. 

Hinata and Yamaguchi treasured their rare free time, wandering around the parts of the ship they were allowed to go and trying not to get in anyone's way. Sometimes they hung around on the deck, trying to catch a glimpse of Tanaka going about his duties, but someone usually chased them off before too long. Hinata loved leaning over a railing and staring at the sea rushing by below, watching any sea life in evidence while Yamaguchi held on to the back of his shirt and begged him not to fall. One day a pod of dolphins swam alongside the Swan for several hours, and Hinata was in raptures.

Yamaguchi preferred the whiles he and Hinata spent talking, leaning up in a quiet corner of the sloping deck. There was a nook of the forecastle where the cabin met the bow that seemed custom-made for two boys to sit and gab away the time. They first started using it because it happened to be out of sight of the railing, as well as sheltered from the wind, and even after several weeks at sea Yamaguchi still blanched at the sight of the water and longed for any respite from it. Early on, Hinata found this place and led his new friend there, and it soon became their familiar haunt. Eventually Yamaguchi grew a little bolder and more confident ("Your sea legs are finally coming in!" Hinata had declared), but they still appreciated the relative freedom and solitude of their chosen home.

Yamaguchi talked a lot about his friend, Tsukki, and the things they did together. They were too quiet and too uninteresting to Hinata’s eyes, but Yamaguchi was truly wistful and grieving their loss, so he kept that to himself. He felt like he came to know this Tsukki person through Yamaguchi’s stories—a wondrously strong friend who was funny and kind and confident and cool-headed and the smartest person in the entire Archipelago. Then Hinata made the mistake of asking about Yamaguchi’s family

Yamaguchi hesitated at first, but Hinata kept pestering him, and he broke. He spoke of his family and how much he missed them—his parents, the carpentry shop they ran in Karasuno, his two older brothers and three younger sisters. Yamaguchi had always felt lost in the crowd amongst his own family. There was always someone talking louder than him, always someone grabbing more attention, always someone better or stronger or faster or cuter. He'd envied his oldest brother's skill with his hands, his other brother's intelligence. He'd envied his sisters for the effortless way they seemed to control their surroundings, their beauty and confidence and sense of the way things should go together. 

"I always thought," Yamaguchi admitted once, just for Hinata's ears, "that if I ever vanished someday, no one would notice. Why would they? I was just Tadashi. I never stood out. I tried to be dependable and to do what was asked of me, but I always failed in one way or another. And now I really have vanished and all, probably forever, and I don't even know if I was right or not. Did anyone notice? Did anyone care?"

Hinata gaped at Yamaguchi in dismay. He wanted to yell and scream. _Of course they noticed! Of course they cared! How could_ anyone _not notice when you vanished, let alone your own family? They must be heartbroken!_ But he didn't know that. He didn't know Yamaguchi's family. His only window into that world, that life, was Yamaguchi himself, and he was beginning to understand that Yamaguchi perhaps did not see himself and his surroundings as clearly as he ought to.

It was all completely outside of Hinata's experience. He had never doubted his own importance, his own validity and worth and value. He had been captain of his own little gang for as long as he could remember, and his family was noisy and grubby and half-starved much of the time, but they never lacked for affection. 

After a long moment, Hinata said the only words that would come to him. "Well, _I_ would care if you vanished. And so would Tanaka-senpai! We would care very, very much. So you have to be careful not to do that, aye? You have to stay safe and stay strong, because you're our Yama-chan and we can't lose you!"

Yamaguchi blinked at Hinata in bald astonishment. And he blinked. And blinked again. Then he smiled, sudden and sweet and broad and bright. "Aye!"

Hinata grinned back, and he got up on his knees so that he was tall enough to give Yamaguchi's hair a good ruffling. Then he sat down, cross-legged on the deck again, and looked his friend in the face. "My turn! I have more stories I haven't told you."

Yamaguchi nodded. "Aye, please tell them all."

Hinata told Yamaguchi about his own life, so far removed from Yamaguchi's even though they'd lived only one town apart. Yamaguchi had grown up well-fed and well-clothed, the third son of a prosperous craftsman in a populated town. Hinata had grown up as the child of a groomsman in a fishing village, and his life had been loud and boisterous and as active as the port that defined his town. His family was small and rough and usually scraping to get by, and they fought and scrabbled with each other as much as they ever did with outsiders. But Hinata had never had any reason to dislike his life, as pitiable and difficult as it might have seemed to anyone who hadn't lived it.

"I was always happy where I was," Hinata said. "There was always something fun going on, someone to play with and some game or competition to try. I liked my life, and I miss my mom and my dad and my little sister and my friends, but I'm not sad about being at sea, either. There's a lot going on here, too! We're going to meet lots of people and have lots of adventures. And someday, aye someday, for certain and sure, we're going to see a _dragon._ I know it! Won't that be grand?"

Yamaguchi watched Hinata with a smile, soft and fond, his chin resting on his folded hands. "Aye, you're happy where you are, always and all," he said gently. "It's a lovely gift of the spirit, and I envy you your contentment, I do. We need to spend more time together, Hinata-chan. You have to teach me how to be like you."

Hinata laughed at that, shocked and pleased by the compliments. Yamaguchi was rarely so open with his feelings. Hinata tumbled over on his side and rolled on the deck until he ran into Yamaguchi's legs, and Yamaguchi patted his head and laughed, too. 

It was true that they did not get to spend enough time together. They stole away for every free moment they had, but those were rare and hard-snatched, and always there was the pressure of looming responsibilities and the knowledge that they would have to return to the drills and the lessons and relentless, unending _work_ in just a little while. In a way, though, that only made these moments all the sweeter.

"Ahh, we have to get back now," Yamaguchi said reluctantly, pushing himself up to his knees and peeking around the edge of the cabin. "They'll be looking for us soon. I don't want another caning."

Hinata made a face. Canings were the worst. Neither he nor Yamaguchi had earned a formal punishment yet, but the casual stripes for laziness or inattention or any of a hundred other offenses were bad enough. 

“Aye, you speak the truth.” Hinata dragged himself to his feet. After a quick look around to make sure the coast was clear, they sidled out of their hiding place and began moving back to the gundeck.

“You!” cried one of the other powder boys when he spotted them coming. “Where have you two been hiding?” He pointed at them as if in accusation, and two other boys moved up behind him, leering at Hinata and Yamaguchi with hostility and a creepy kind of pleasure.

Yamaguchi’s shoulders hunched up, and he tried to make himself even smaller than he usually did. Hinata looked at him with narrowed eyes, then back to the boys who blocked their path. “Leave us alone, Billy Hanson,” he declared. “It’s none of your business where we were. We’re back in time for the next drills, so who cares?”

"I care," said Billy Hanson with a sneer. "I care what you're doing with little Pimple-Face Tadashi there, because he’s a worthless, scrawny wimp and he’ll drag you down with him if you’re not careful.”

Hinata bristled. He cast a glance back at Yamaguchi and saw him staring at the deck, a hot flush of red painting his cheeks. Yamaguchi had told him, once, that he had known Billy Hanson and his two friends back in Karasuno. The three had vanished without a word a couple of years ago, and Yamaguchi had been surprised to meet them again on the Swan. It hadn’t sounded like Yamaguchi missed them.

Now Hinata knew why.

He looked back to Billy Hanson, crossing his arms over his chest and widening his stance on the deck as it tilted with the waves. "You shut up," he said. He wished that he had a better comeback, but that was all that came to his lips. "You don't know anything. Yamaguchi is a brave sailor and a good friend, and you're a turd."

Billy's crooked smile only grew. He pushed closer to Hinata, backed up by his friends, and loomed over him. Billy Hanson was as tall as Yamaguchi, but he was considerably broader and more muscular. Hinata looked up at him, holding his ground, though he wished that Tanaka-senpai was around so he could hide behind him. He refused to be intimidated. He would not let this bully push him around. But he wasn't finding it easy.

"You'd better watch your mouth," Billy Hanson said, menacing and low. "We'll find out where you've been hiding and report your laziness to the bosun. You'll both get a whipping. We'll see who's the turd then, won't we?"

Hinata held his ground, but he could feel his knees begin to waver. He didn't like it. He was used to having the upper hand in any childish fight he got into, he and his little band of companions. But things were different aboard the Swan. He and Yamaguchi were powerless here, at the mercy of whatever their elders chose to do to them. 

"You leave us alone, Billy Hanson," he said again, but he could hear the tremble in his own voice, as much as he tried to hide it. "We didn't do anything wrong."

It might have been that tremble that Billy was waiting for. He laughed, leaning back, his posture falling loose and relaxed. He'd gotten what he'd wanted—he'd succeeded in frightening a smaller, younger boy. A petty triumph, but it was what he had wished for, and Hinata had given it to him.

"Don't worry, little kouhai." Billy chuckled and gave Hinata's head the most condescending pat he'd ever endured. Hinata grit his teeth and stood still, his skin crawling. "As long as you show me the proper respect, I won't let Captain Ushi hurt you or your buddy, there."

Hinata twisted up his face. "Captain...Ushi?"

"Isn't it fun how our captain's name sounds like a cow?" He leaned forward, whispering into Hinata's ear. "But if you ever tell anyone I called him that, I'll push you overboard when no one is looking and let you drown."

Hinata stepped back, his feet moving on their own. Yamaguchi caught his shoulders and held him steady, and the two of them stared at Billy with undisguised terror. Billy Hanson laughed and backed off, beckoning for his friends to follow. 

Hinata and Yamaguchi stared at each other, wide-eyed and sweating. Neither of them had anything to say, no words of comfort for each other. Yamaguchi held Hinata's shoulders tightly enough to hurt, and Hinata leaned back into the grip and concentrated on keeping his feet underneath him. 

Then the gun master called for the drills to begin again, and they had no more time to absorb what had just happened. The work went on, and there was nothing to do but get through it.


	5. IN WHICH our heroes discuss the best way to deal with bullies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Yamaguchi and Hinata pirates](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/108790727146/thethoughtsthief-some-pretty-bad-haikyuu-pirate) by thethoughtsthief!

That night, Hinata found a moment with Tanaka-senpai in the mess hall. The noise of the sailors downing their rations was overwhelming, and Hinata was not at all afraid of being overheard as he beckoned his senpai over to the wall so they could talk. Tanaka went with him willingly, busily stuffing his cheeks full of overcooked rice topped with vegetables and meat that had somehow all become lumpy and gray in the pot.

"What's troubling you, Hinata-chan?" Tanaka asked through his mouthful of food. "You look fair sick with worry. Did something happen?"

Hinata nodded. He clasped his hands together and looked over the crowd, but he couldn't see Billy Hanson and his companions. Yamaguchi sat in a corner not far away, shoulders hunched as he bent over his food. After Hinata spoke to Tanaka, they would both go and sit with him. Hinata didn't like leaving him alone even for a moment. He would have to make this quick.

He looked into his senpai's face. Tanaka looked back at him, kind and attentive, but there was none of the urgency, none of the gravity, that Hinata felt in his own heart. This situation was very serious, and Tanaka's casual expression did nothing to calm him.

"Tanaka-senpai, do you know who Billy Hanson is?"

At the grave tone of Hinata's voice, Tanaka's eyes flashed. He stood straighter in response, then finished chewing the food in his mouth and did not take another bite. It was possible that Tanaka had never heard Hinata speak in such a tone before—even when he was tired and discouraged, there was always a hint of cheer and light-heartedness in his voice. But not now.

Tanaka nodded. "Aye, Billy Hanson is known to me. When he and his two friends were conscripted two years ago, I offered to help them, but they wanted nothing to do with me. They did not want a senpai, preferring their own company. I let them be."

"Did you know they were bullies?"

Tanaka narrowed his eyes. "They were never kind. Even to each other. But I never saw them harass anyone. Did they do something to ya?"

Hinata shook his head. "Not to me. I'm fine. But Billy Hanson has been saying cruel things to Yamaguchi. I think he used to do the same when they knew each other in Karasuno, too. And now they're both aboard the Swan, it's started up again."

Now Tanaka's face was as serious and focused as Hinata could have asked for. "What did he say to Yama-chan?"

"He called him a wimp." Hinata felt the heat rise in his face again, just as the outrage rose in his heart. It was all so absurd, so unnecessary. He didn't understand why anyone would feel a need to cut others down with their tongue, but it made even less sense when it was about Yamaguchi, who was kind and smart and brave and the truest shipmate anyone could want. "He said he was scrawny and worthless, and he made fun of his appearance, too." Hinata's hands clenched into fists. "What can I do, Tanaka-senpai? I can't let that go on!"

Tanaka watched him closely. "And was that all? Billy Hanson didn't say anything against you, Hinata? Just Yamaguchi?"

Hinata blinked, drawing back on his heel. "N-no..." He had to struggle to think back on those moments, to remember if anything like that had happened. "Well, I suppose, because I was standing with Yamaguchi, Billy Hanson didn't much like me either. But he didn't do anything to me."

Tanaka's mouth twisted in a crooked smile. "That's interesting, it is. Because, ya know, Yamaguchi talked to me before you did." He tilted his head toward their friend, though his eyes remained fixed on Hinata. "And he said that Billy Hanson had threatened to throw you overboard. He asked me what he could do to make sure nothing like that ever happened."

"Oh." Hinata blinked. He'd been so focused on helping Yamaguchi, on seeking Tanaka's advice for dealing with the entire intolerable situation, that he'd completely forgotten that part. "Oh, aye, he did say that."

Tanaka's gaze did not waver from his face. He was utterly serious, now. "Billy Hanson is a problem, he is. I can't have him threatening my kouhai. When Yamaguchi told me that, I thought perhaps he'd misjudged the situation, seeing as how poor Yama-chan does tend to get overwrought at times. But now you're giving me the same news, and I can't dismiss both of ya. I shouldn't have dismissed the first telling, either."

Hinata let out a breath, immensely relieved and gratified. The hands he’d held clenched into fists released. “Aye, he frightened us both. What should we do? I’ve never had to deal with bullies before.”

Tanaka frowned. He looked away from Hinata, eyes sharp and narrowed, sweeping over the gathered crew. "What should ya do? Nothing, that's what. I'll take care of this."

He pushed his half-finished bowl into Hinata's hands and started away from the wall, bent forward like a predator on the hunt. Hinata stood stunned for a moment, then slammed the wooden bowl down on the nearest surface and hurried after him. "Tanaka-senpai, no!"

He grabbed Tanaka's arm as it swung back, and Tanaka halted. He turned back to look at Hinata, his eyes flashing fire. Hinata caught his breath, but his grip on Tanaka's arm only tightened.

"What?" Tanaka forced out through gritted teeth. "If you're really going to try to stop me from having words with that guttersnipe..."

"Tanaka-senpai, please." Hinata squeezed Tanaka's arm. "Don't. If you talk to him now, in the middle of the mess while everyone is watching, you're the one who's going to seem like a bully. You're angry, and it means a lot to me, it does, but you can't talk to Billy right now. Not while you're like this. Yamaguchi won't like it if you get into trouble on his account, and neither will I."

Tanaka went still at that, his shoulders rigid, his back bowed and stiff. Then he straightened, slow and careful, and turned to face Hinata again. His face was a wooden mask of anger, and his teeth were clenched, but a semblance of control had returned to his eyes. "Aye, you may be right. It would be better to catch him in some quiet corner and have a word with him then. I'll be able to say what I need to with no chance of interference."

Hinata's grip on Tanaka's arm lightened, but he didn't let him go. He couldn't shake the feeling that this wouldn't fix anything, but he couldn't figure out why. "That might help..." he said slowly. "At least for a time..."

Tanaka watched him. "What's the matter, little shipmate?" he asked, low and rumbling. "Don't ya believe that your senpai can protect ya?"

Hinata wavered, grimacing. "Of course I do! But..."

"But it's not a true solution to the problem." 

Yamaguchi's voice. He stood next to them, holding Tanaka's abandoned food balanced gently in his palms. He held it up with a small bow, and Tanaka's eyes softened the rest of the way as he took the bowl back with one hand and ruffled Yamaguchi's hair with the other.

"I'm sorry I didn't take ya seriously earlier, Yama-chan," he said. "Now, what's troubling your little head? Doncha want I should speak to Billy Hanson for ya?"

Yamaguchi hesitated, then shook his head, wide-eyed and tense. "Nay, you can't do that. Billy mocked me for a wimp and weakling, he did. If you step in for us, he might leave us be for a time, but it won't change anything. He'll just think I'm even more of a worthless coward, needing an older sailor to fight my battles for me."

Hinata could not have been prouder. That was exactly the problem that had been prickling at the edge of his brain, but he hadn't been able to form it into words. Yamaguchi had been able to say exactly what needed to be said without any struggle or any preparation beforehand. He truly was the smartest person Hinata had ever met.

"Hnh." Tanaka shoveled food into his mouth and chewed in contemplation, his eyes deep and far away. He nodded toward a stool against a wall. "Let's rest a bit and talk this through, aye?"

Yamaguchi nodded, then moved off to fetch his and Hinata's food. The three of them went to the stool, Tanaka sitting while Hinata knelt on the floor, Yamaguchi cross-legged beside him. They took a few moments to eat, to calm down and gather their thoughts. The food was the same bland, limp, mushy fare as usual, but Hinata always ate with gusto. Tonight was no exception.

Finally, Tanaka tucked his chopsticks away in a pocket of his vest and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he looked into the faces of his kouhai. "Now," he said, his voice calm once more, the kind-hearted teller of tales and singer of songs who soothed them into rest each night. "What are we to do about Billy Hanson?"

Hinata and Yamaguchi looked at each other for moment, then back to Tanaka. They shrugged in tandem. This was why they had both come to Tanaka for advice: they didn't know what to do.

"Hmm." Tanaka's eyes narrowed in thought as he looked between them. After a moment, he focused on Yamaguchi. "Yama-chan, Hinata said that you knew Billy in Karasuno. What happened then? Did he bully you? How did you deal with him?"

Yamaguchi shifted where he sat. His chopsticks lowered toward his bowl, and he gulped against a sudden tide of nausea, staring at the deck again. "It seems...so long ago..."

Hinata scooted closer and pressed his shoulder to Yamaguchi's. "Aye, was it? How old were you?"

Yamaguchi's shoulder lifted in a shrug. "Seven? Eight? We were in elementary school. Billy Hanson and his friends used to corner me in the schoolyard during recess. They pushed me around and made me carry their things, and they said I was scrawny and...and pimply...and...and all..."

Hinata leaned into his side, straining to hear Yamaguchi's voice as it fell quieter and quieter. "Didn't your big brothers stick up for you? If I'd been your brother and I'd been there, I woulda busted their noses!"

Yamaguchi shook his head and seemed to sink even further into himself. "My brothers didn't notice. I didn't think anyone noticed." He looked up, a spark brightening his eyes. "But someone did. Someone I didn't know, who didn't know me. Someone who had no reason to notice or care, but somehow he did anyway."

Hinata stared into his face, mouth hanging open. He was fully drawn into the story now, hanging on every word. "Who was it?" he asked, hushed and intent.

"Your friend?" Tanaka asked gently.

"Aye." Yamaguchi nodded. He met Hinata's eyes. "Tsukki. He noticed. I don't know why. But he stepped in. He laughed, and maybe he was laughing at me as well as at Billy Hanson and his mates, but it didn't matter. He was tall and strong and bright as a new penny. Billy tried to rile him up, but Tsukki wouldn't be riled. He just stood there and laughed, cool as a cloud, high above and all."

Hinata gaped. If only he'd been there! He would have stood by Tsukki's side and defended Yamaguchi from those bullies. It would have been grand.

"And then what happened?" Tanaka asked.

Yamaguchi looked up and met his eyes. "Billy got spooked. I don't know quite what Tsukki did or said, or maybe it was just the look in his eyes. But all at once Billy shuddered like someone had walked over his grave, and he backed down. His friends went with him. They walked out of the schoolyard, never glancing back. And Tsukki turned around and went back to class. We didn't truly become friends until later, he and I, and I never knew if he even remembered that day, or cared what he'd done. But it meant the world to me, it did. The world and all."

"Did Billy ever trouble you again?" Hinata asked. 

Yamaguchi shook his head. "Those three...they stopped coming to school. I only ever saw them out and about town once in a while, and that always at a distance. Maybe it was because I was usually walking with Tsukki, or sitting by him, but they never came near me more. Not that I minded and all. I was grateful to be rid of them."

"Uwaah," Hinata murmured, overcome by the wonder of this tale. What grand friends Tsukki and Yamaguchi had been! All at once, he understood the great grief in Yamaguchi's eyes when he spoke of his lost buddy and the times they used to spend together. An ache took up residence in his chest on the behalf of his shipmate. 

What a shame, to lose such a boon companion. Hinata would have to try harder to make up for this lack in Yamaguchi's life. He couldn't replace such a marvelous person as Tsukki, but he would try his best. Yamaguchi would never lack for companionship as long as he was around.

Tanaka nodded, slow and calm, at the finish of this tale. "Well, it's glad I am that your school life was not ruined by those scoundrels, Yama-chan. But I don't see many clues in that story for how to end the current fix we’re in."

Yamaguchi raised his head and met Tanaka's eyes. "We?"

Tanaka nodded as if this was very, very obvious. "Aye, the three of us together. Ya didn't think me and Hinata would leave you alone with those arse-wipes, did ya?"

Yamaguchi hesitated. But then he shook his head. His pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, staring at the deck again. "I suppose I didn't think at all."

"Well, it's time ya did, then." Tanaka patted his head, making his messy hair stand up all over the place. 

Hinata sat up straight. "Aye, Tanaka-senpai, what did you mean by 'clues?' What were you hoping to hear in Yamaguchi's story?"

Tanaka paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. "Well, and I don't truly know, little shipmate. I suppose I hoped that what worked before might work again. But here it seems that Yama-chan's friend, this Tsukki person, was able to scare the bilge rats off for good. A ship is smaller than a town. There's no way we can avoid that poxy Billy Hanson and his mates forever. I can try to scare them away for ya, but it's true that it won't work for long. And much as I want to, I can't be by your side at all hours. They'll be worse than ever if they catch you alone and think they have the upper hand just because I'm not there."

Yamaguchi squeezed his knees closer to his chest. Hinata gusted out a sigh and fell backward on the deck, catching himself on his elbows. "Oi, it's all so maddening! Why do we have to fight with them? Why can't they just understand that Yamaguchi is an amazing person and be friends with us instead?"

"Ah, not everyone is as smart as we are, Hinata-chan," Tanaka said sadly. "The two of us can see Yama-chan's worth, and truly does it take a dullard to miss it, he shines so brightly. But it seems that those bully-boys are the dullest of the dull, and there's naught we can do to mend them. We have to deal with the world as it is, not as we wish it to be."

Hinata held still for a moment, contemplating the philosophy in this. "Aye, Tanaka-senpai. You are a wise man."

Tanaka nodded, accepting this praise as his due.

“But if we can’t make friends with Billy Hanson, what are we to do?” Hinata asked. “Will we have to fight them?”

“Aye, I suppose ya will.” Tanaka’s voice was regretful, but no less certain for that. “We can’t let them keep hurting Yamaguchi’s feelings and threatening to murder you. If fighting is the only way, then that’s what we must do.”

Hinata kicked his foot at Tanaka in warning. “But not you! You’re a gunner, a gunner on the fo’c’sle, so you must be above reproach! You can’t fight a powder boy. It will have to be me and Yamaguchi who do it. We have to take care of ourselves.” He looked to his friend, his eyes bright and sparkling.

Yamaguchi blew out a breath and pressed his face against his knees. "I don't want to fight," he said softly. "I was never any good at it. I don't have the constitution and all."

Hinata rolled over onto his hands and knees and scooted forward to look his friend's face. "Don't make light of yourself, Yamaguchi-san! You're brave, I know it! You can fight if you have to, and you'll win, too!"

Yamaguchi shook his head, tucking into himself even harder.

"Aye, Hinata speaks true," Tanaka said. His voice was solemn, and he watched Yamaguchi with a fierce and gentle regard. "You've proved it already, this very night."

Yamaguchi looked up, startled out of his funk, and stared at Tanaka with wide eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"You came and spoke to me." Tanaka nodded sharply, as if this proved everything. And maybe it did. "You wanted me to help ya protect Hinata, and ya didn't even mention yourself and what those rat children said about ya. For Hinata, you were willing to fight, even though you didn't know how. Isn't that still true? If it was Hinata they were mocking and harassing, instead of you, wouldn't ya stand against them? Wouldn't ya bid them to be silent and punch them in the mouth if they refused?"

Yamaguchi was quiet. He looked between them, staring into Tanaka's face, then Hinata's. After a long moment, mulling it over, he nodded. It was not a hesitant nod, like most of Yamaguchi's movements when only himself was at stake. It was a strong nod, firm and hearty and almost bold. "Aye, so I would," he said, and his voice was strong, too. "If they dared to push Hinata around, if they tried to bully him and all, I would fight even knowing I would lose. I would have to try, no matter the cost."

"Then let me teach ya how," Tanaka said. "We'll begin right away. I'll show ya how to throw a punch. Aye, Yamaguchi, you have the height for it. You could be a brawler." He looked at the other boy. "And Hinata, you're a scrapper. I knew it from the moment I laid eyes on ya. The two of you together will be nigh unstoppable, you will. Let Yamaguchi rain down a few blows from above while Hinata strikes from below, and even the most fearsome of schoolyard bullies will see the worth in running away."

“Aye, aye!” Hinata cried, leaping to his feet in excitement. His empty bowl was forgotten, rolling away on the deck.

Yamaguchi stared up at Tanaka, his eyes round with shock. “You...you really think we can? You really think we can beat them, just Hinata and I against three older boys?”

“Well, I hope ya won’t have to.” Tanaka climbed to his feet and reached down a hand to Yamaguchi. “It would be best that it not come to that, to be sure. But you need to have the will and the ability, if it comes to it. If they corner ya and there’s no recourse, I want ya to win. So I’ll do everything I can to make sure that’s what happens.”

Yamaguchi took Tanaka’s hand and clasped it strongly, palm to palm. Tanaka hauled him to his feet with one pull, the muscles of his bicep pulling taut in effortless strength. Gone was Yamaguchi’s protests that he didn’t want to fight, that he didn’t know how, that he couldn’t. His jaw was tight, his eyes were hard, and his stance was steady. He had accepted the necessity of this task in the end, not for his own sake but for Hinata’s.

Tanaka gave him a smile, broad and proud. "Let's go on deck for our first lesson, aye? I'll teach ya everything I know."

"Won't the other sailors see us if we do it on deck?" Hinata asked.

"And if they do, so much the better. Best yet if Billy Hanson and his plague-ridden friends hear of it and come to watch. They'll see that the two of you are naught to trifle with, and mayhap that'll be the end of it. If they learn to fear ya by sight, ya won't have to fight them in truth."

Yamaguchi nodded, his eyes narrowing. "Aye, that would be best."

"Let's hope for that, then." Tanaka clapped him on the shoulder and led the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favorite part of this chapter was all the descriptions Tanaka came up with for Billy and his friends.


	6. IN WHICH Tanaka-senpai teaches his kouhai, and the Swan sails toward a new mission.

"That's it, Yama-chan, come at me!" 

Tanaka held up his hand as a target, beckoning with the other. He danced backward on the deck, light as seafoam, forcing Yamaguchi to follow him. Yamaguchi's fists were raised to the level of his chin, and sweat stood on his face and soaked his hair. His eyes were hard and his mouth was screwed up in a grimace of concentration.

"C'mon, c'mon, strike while the iron is hot!" Tanaka splayed the fingers of his open hand in encouragement. Yamaguchi struck out and landed a solid blow on Tanaka's palm. Tanaka laughed, hard and loud.

"Good, good! Turn your body into the punch! Extend your arm fully, but keep your elbow bent! Good, good! Again!" 

Right, left. Right again. Yamaguchi punched. Tanaka backed away and presented his other hand as a target as well. He changed position constantly so that Yamaguchi had to follow moving targets. Yamaguchi's eyes were sharp and focused, missing nothing, and his shoulders were not hunched in self-protection, but bent forward in aggression. 

He did not seem aware of the crowd that had gathered to watch, some silent, some hooting or cheering. They'd been having their nightly lessons for more than two weeks, now. Every day, even when Yamaguchi and Hinata were exhausted from the day's work, even when Tanaka had to drag himself away from a game of cards or a lewd story told by another shipmate, the three of them had found the time to practice and learn from each other. Even if they only had energy for a short while before they stumbled to their hammocks with limbs limp as noodles, they worked together. 

It had begun to tell. The difference in Yamaguchi was as clear as a cloudless sky. Hinata could see it, and he could only hope that Yamaguchi saw it, too.

People had begun to watch on the third day or so. Just two or three at first, older sailors who had been with the Swan for many years and were drawn by any hint of some new entertainment to be had. They had snickered and nudged each other, watching young Tanaka Ryuu teach his little kouhai how to throw a punch, how to pivot on the heel, how to follow through after a blow. 

Yamaguchi had barely been able to stand it. His shoulders hunched around his ears, his face flamed with embarrassment, and his already clumsy movements became even more uncoordinated and flustered. But Tanaka refused to let up. He wouldn't let Yamaguchi stop, even when the watching sailors joked and mocked amongst themselves. Tanaka just grit his teeth, his eyes flashing in the dim light of the ship's lanterns and the moonlight above, and bid Yamaguchi to continue with the lesson. And they did.

Yamaguchi worked hard. He didn’t give up. He fought through his embarrassment, his fear, his self-doubt. He threw himself into the lessons with everything he had. After only a few days, the watchers ceased to matter. Yamaguchi was able to ignore them, focused solely on the task he had set for himself. Tanaka grinned when he saw it, wide and delighted, and Hinata cheered from the sidelines, too.

Hinata didn't mind the crowd, which grew and grew as the lessons continued. When it was his turn to spar with his senpai, he threw himself into it with joyful abandon. He wasn't any better than Yamaguchi at fighting, not at the beginning. But he was strong and fast and swift to react, and he had always enjoyed competing in front of spectators. For him, the gathered watchers were a spur, not a burden.

Yet as much as Hinata enjoyed his lessons for the time spent with his senpai and for the development of his skills, his pleasure in watching Yamaguchi was just as great. If not greater. Gradually as the days passed the jokes and laughter of the watchers had faded, replaced with genuine interest and shouts of encouragement. They were all seeing what Hinata was seeing—Yamaguchi learning, growing, and becoming. He was like a newly hatched bird, shedding fragments of shell with every shake of his wings. Soon he would be mighty. He would soar.

"Keep going, Yamaguchi!" Hinata cried, pumping his fist in the air as he watched Yamaguchi and Tanaka dance around the deck. "Chase him down! Give him what for!"

Tanaka laughed and sidestepped Yamaguchi's swing at the last second, and Yamaguchi stumbled forward, off-balance. Tanaka caught his shoulder and kept him from falling to the deck. "Oi, there, little shipmate! Don't hurt yourself, now."

Well, perhaps Yamaguchi wasn't ready to soar quite yet. But he was getting there. He would reach it soon. Hinata clapped and cheered.

Yamaguchi spread his feet on the deck, panting and flushed. His fists lowered to his sides. "Tanaka-senpai... I...I feel dizzy..."

"Oh, aye?" Tanaka halted in concern and laid a hand along Yamaguchi's cheek, raising his head so he could look in his eyes. He tsked loudly. "Aye, we'd best take a breather. Hinata! Fetch some water, would you?"

Hinata ran for the fresh water barrel. Tanaka led Yamaguchi over to the mast to sit, supporting him with a firm grip on his elbow as Yamaguchi's steps wavered. They had to pass through the watchers to get there, and then Tanaka carefully lowered Yamaguchi to the deck. One of the other sailors, the one everyone called Juan the Elder, patted Yamaguchi's head and praised his fortitude as Hinata raced back with a dipper of water, spilling most of it as he ran.

That was the end of the lessons for that night, though Hinata felt he could have gone a little longer. Tanaka called a halt and would not be gainsaid, though after some water and some rest Yamaguchi said that he felt fine as frog's hair. And indeed, he was well enough then to be embarrassed by the attention, which he had been oblivious to when he wasn't feeling himself. Nonetheless, to their hammocks they went, to dream and plan and anticipate the morrow.

Even with his newfound strength, Yamaguchi was not as cheery and optimistic as Hinata, who was now certain that no matter what, they would be able to deal with Billy Hanson and his mates when the time came. But Yamaguchi was no longer gloomy and despairing over the prospect, either. Progress had been made and would continue to be made.

X

The Swan sailed on. In the first weeks, Hinata and Yamaguchi had been too overwhelmed and too busy adjusting to their new life to pay much attention to the larger goings on of the ship. But as they settled, as they learned and grew and earned their sea legs, they began to listen to the talk of the older sailors and to feel an interest in the mission. 

At the time they'd been brought aboard, the Swan hadn't had any particular purpose except restocking supplies in Yukigaoka. (Which supplies, it appeared, also included fresh conscripts.) Soon after they set sail, though, Captain Ushijima had received orders from the capital island of Yeddo. For months, the Swan had been patrolling the major merchant routes between the most populated islands, keeping a watch out for pirates and escorting the occasional trade ship. Now, they were sailing for the edge of the Archipelago on a new mission. 

Hinata was unreasonably excited at the prospect. When Yamaguchi and he were able to steal away to their hiding place for a little while, it was all he wanted to talk about. Yamaguchi indulged him in speculating, too, but he had no more information than Hinata did.

"They said we're going to the Iron Island, at the very edge of the Archipelago!" Hinata announced one day, all but yelling in Yamaguchi's face. 

Yamaguchi winced and stuck his little finger in his ear, but nodded amiably at his friend's excitement. "Aye, so they did. I heard it, too. I was standing with you when those sailors were talking, if you remember."

"Aye, aye, but what does it _mean?"_ Hinata was kneeling in front of Yamaguchi, his toes pressed to the deck and his hands on his knees. As he spoke, he bounced up and down with the motion of the ship, unable to be still. "The Iron Island is the furthest defense of Aritossa, isn't it? They call it the Wall, because no enemy can pass within a league of it. Are we going to be patrolling there, now? Is there some sort of threat from beyond the Archipelago that we must face?"

"I don't know, Hinata-chan." As usual, Yamaguchi's patience was infinite, matching Hinata's infinite eagerness jot for jot. "I imagine we'll find out and all when we get there."

Hinata stuck his lower lip out in a mighty pout. "But I want to know _now."_

Yamaguchi wrinkled up his face in a cross between a smile and a grimace. "Well, then, I guess you'll just have to spy on the officers' meetings until they mention what the mission is."

Hinata's eyes widened and widened. Then he leaped to his feet, his fists clenched at his sides. "Do you really think I can?"

"What? No!" Yamaguchi jumped up and put his hands on Hinata's shoulders, doing his best to push him down to sit again. "Don't be an idiot. I was joking! You can't spy on the officers' meetings—that's plain foolishness, it is, and you'll get yourself whipped for insolence."

After a few seconds of resistance, Hinata let himself be forced down to the deck again. His frown was bigger than ever, though, his eyes liquid with admonishment. "That wasn't a very funny joke, Yamaguchi. You got my hopes all up. It seemed like such a good idea!"

"Well, it isn't." Yamaguchi left his hands on Hinata's shoulders, standing up on his knees while Hinata sprawled slump-shouldered and loose-limbed on the deck. He patted Hinata's shoulders, clumsy and a bit too rough. "It's a terrible idea, and I'm sorry I'm so bad at telling jokes. Don't you even think about it and all. We have no choice but to wait and find out with the rest of the crew."

"Aye, aye. As you say." Hinata crossed his arms over his chest and huffed a sigh. 

"I'm sorry I mentioned it." Yamaguchi's voice was entirely sincere, his expression twisted with regret. "Try to forget I ever said anything."

"I can't help it," Hinata complained, waving his hands in the air in a flail of frustration. "You're so smart, and your ideas are always so good! How else was I supposed to take it?"

Yamaguchi's hands slid off Hinata's shoulders, and he knelt back on his heels with a groan. "I'm not that smart. I ended up here, didn't I?"

Hinata sobered, his arms settling down at his sides again. "You couldn't help that," he told him, his eyes large and round. "You were just walking home from your friend's house. You didn't do anything wrong."

Yamaguchi shrugged, folding his hands in his lap. His face was red, and he couldn't seem to meet Hinata's eyes, his gaze continually slipping away. Hinata sighed again, though for a different reason this time.

"Let's talk about something else," Yamaguchi muttered.

"Aye." Hinata perked up, his eyes sparking with interest. The enthusiasm returned to his voice right away. "What do you think the Iron Island is like? I heard they have the largest fortress in the Shifting Sea, and a harbor with a sea gate. Do you think that's true? What will it look like?"

Yamaguchi nodded, settling into the new topic with a grateful smile. "There is indeed a sea gate at the Iron Island, one of the largest in the world. We studied the Iron Island in school for a few days. There's a great chain boom across the mouth of the harbor, and it can be raised and lowered by winches at corner gates on either side of the mouth. It's quite a feat of engineering and all, and they say it's a marvel to see it in action. I hope we get to see it."

"But the boom will be lowered for the Swan, won't it? They wouldn't be worried about an attack while Captain Ushijima is about?"

"Aye, mayhap. But still, something could happen..."

The hopefulness in Yamaguchi's voice made Hinata grin. He was glad to have found a topic to engage his friend's interest and take him away from the melancholy that had gripped him. Someday, he was going to convince Yamaguchi that he was an amazing person and had no reason to regret or blame himself. For now, though, at least he could distract him. Hinata puffed up with delight at his success, and he let Yamaguchi lead the conversation for the rest of the day.

X

The sailors continued to watch Tanaka's lessons with Yamaguchi and Hinata. It was not always the same men, and some nights the group of watchers was larger than others. But on the whole, it continued to grow. Their sparring matches had become a source of amusement for the ship, and Tanaka beamed with pride, sharp and bright, at every shout of encouragement or cry of advice aimed at his proteges.

Hinata even thought he saw Captain Ushijima watching, once, standing on the quarterdeck with his hands clasped behind his back, his shoulders broad and stiff against the starry sky. But the light was dim, the figure only a silhouette, and it might have been his imagination.

Then came the night that Hinata had been waiting for, though he hadn't realized he was expecting it until it arrived. Hinata had sparred with Tanaka first, that night, giving Yamaguchi some time to rest. Now it was Yamaguchi's turn, and Hinata sat on a barrel at the edge of the crowd and cheered him on while he chased Tanaka around the deck, dogged and determined. 

Yamaguchi's swings had gained in power as the days passed, and now there was an audible _whoosh_ sound as his fist flew through the air, seeking its mark. Tanaka took each blow to his hands like a champion, laughing and grinning in exultation, but Hinata didn't miss the tiny winces that crossed his senpai's face on occasion. Yamaguchi had grown to be a tough opponent. Everyone could see it.

Hinata glanced sideways, watching the crowd as they watched his friends. He loved seeing their faces. He loved watching the skepticism of the newcomers melting into admiration, then enthusiasm, as they saw what was the happening here. The fierce joy of the regulars as they saw, again, how much Yamaguchi had grown. The proud, nostalgic expression on the face of Juan of the Elder. Maybe he used to fight, too. Maybe he wished he still did.

Then he saw them, standing at the back of the group, noses in the air and faces drawn with disgust. Billy Hanson and his mates had come to watch the lesson. Hinata froze for a moment, staring at them with eyes growing ever wider. Then he faced forward again and hunkered down, hiding his grin. Let them watch. Let them see. Let them understand just what they had gotten themselves into when they had dared to threaten Hinata and bully his friend.

After another minute or two of vigorous exercise, Tanaka called a halt, reaching out to put a hand on Yamaguchi's head. "Waah, oi, that's enough for now, Yama-chan! Ah, you're dripping sweat! We'll get a drink, aye? Rest a mite."

Yamaguchi nodded, just a touch dizzily, but his feet were firm on the deck. Tanaka ruffled his damp hair and led the way over to the barrel Hinata had jumped away from, anticipating their need. He'd already filled the dipper, and he held it out for Yamaguchi as they approached. "Here, Yamaguchi! Drink your fill!"

Yamaguchi accepted the hollowed-out calabash and tipped it to his mouth, letting the water run over his chin and neck, spilling onto his tunic. Tanaka laughed and thumped his back, congratulating him for "drinking like a man." 

"You've come a long way, little kouhai!" Tanaka declared, his boisterous voice carrying over the entire ship. "Pleased as punch, I am, and you should be too. I was right when I called ya a brawler. Put those fists to use just as ya have been, and not one man in a hundred will be able to stand against ya."

Several of the gathered crew laughed and agreed at this, and Hinata punched Yamaguchi's arm hard enough to make him flinch and almost drop the calabash. But not everyone was so pleased. Of course not. As the laughter and noise began to die down, a loud scoff tore through the group, sharp and unexpected, startling and silencing.

Tanaka turned toward the sound at once, his eyes flashing like a bolt of lightning from above. He found the source of the scoff and narrowed in on it, then stalked forward. Several of the crewmen between stepped aside to give him a wide berth. Billy Hanson stood still on the deck, paralyzed where he stood as Tanaka Ryuu came toward him like a rolling storm.

"What did you say?" Tanaka asked, low and menacing. "I thought I heard a sound come out of your mouth, but that couldn't be right, could it? It was a slug, wasn't it? A slug came out of your mouth. Where did the poor ugly, misshapen thing go?" He made a show of staring around at the deck with wide eyes, even lifting up one of his feet as if afraid he might have stepped on it. 

Then he looked back to Billy Hanson, his wide-eyed, playful expression closing down into unadulterated disgust. "That's what it was, right? Surely ya didn't say a word against my kouhai. That would be far uglier than any slug upon this great green earth, and I would be compelled to squash it with a will."

Billy stood his ground, though he swayed back on his heels as Tanaka loomed over him. His friends at his shoulders seemed to give him strength, or perhaps he was simply unwilling to appear weak before them. After a moment of silence, he narrowed his eyes at Tanaka, his mouth drawing down in a frown.

"Aye, I made a noise. It was a reaction, that was all. I couldn't control it. The words coming out of your mouth were simply too unbelievable for me to bear."

His friends snickered and nudged him, breaking out of their stunned stillness at being under Tanaka's baleful eye. Billy straightened at the encouragement, a smirk appearing on his lips. 

Tanaka stood back, no longer looming over the powder boys. He rested his hands on his hips and watched Billy with his chin raised. "Unbelievable, was it? What was it that I said, in particular, that you disagree with so heartily?"

"Well, all of it." Billy showed his teeth in a snarling grin. "Every word. The idea that Pimple-Face Tadashi would _ever_ be a match for anyone, let alone a hundred."

"Oh, aye?" Tanaka tilted his head in mocking question. "Shall we put it to a test, then?"

"Tanaka-senpai..." Yamaguchi dared to protest, but he was instantly drowned by the hail of cheers from everyone around.

"Aye, to the test!" "Let's have a real fight!" "Show us what you're made of, powder monkeys!" "Give us a show!"

They had all been waiting for this moment, it seemed. For the endless lessons and practice and sparring to gain weight and significance. If it was fun to watch three young sailors pretend to fight, it would be that much more entertaining to see a real match.

Billy raised his chin, too, mirroring Tanaka's aggressive stance. "Aye, let's put it to the test. I'll fight Yamaguchi right here, right now." He raised his fist in expectant delight, and his smile was a horror to behold.

At the edge of the crowd, practically forgotten by all, Yamaguchi whimpered and shrank, hiding his face in his hands. Hinata patted his back, stepping forward as if to shield him. "Don't worry," he whispered. "I'm sure Tanaka-senpai has a plan. He's wise and he's kind. He won't put you in danger."

Tanaka held out his hand in front of Billy Hanson's face, flat and splayed to halt his momentum. "Nay!" he thundered, and the crowd went still. "Not right here, right now. That wouldn't be fair, would it? Yama-chan just spent an entire bell working hard, while you've been resting your gams after enjoying your meal. That wouldn't be a fair fight at all!" 

A few of the other sailors nodded, considering the sense in this. Billy blinked in confusion, his fist lowering to his side. Yamaguchi breathed a sigh of relief.

Tanaka shook his head, slow and solemn. "Nay. Tomorrow. Tomorrow when the work is done and we've all had time to recover from the labors of the day. Then we'll have our test. You'll have a chance to prove your mettle. And Yama-chan will show ya, for good and all, exactly how far he's come."

He looked around at the watchers. "Does that not seem a good plan? Is it not fair and just?"

"Aye, 'tis," said Juan the Elder, slapping Tanaka on the back. "We'll look forward to the morrow, then, aye?" He looked around at his peers, and there was a general murmur of agreement. Some looked disgruntled at the delay of their entertainment, but none dared protest after Juan the Elder sanctioned the plan.

"Tomorrow, then," Tanaka said, with one last smile for Billy Hanson. And he turned on his heel and stalked off, back to his kouhai.

"Tomorrow!" Billy cried to his back, a promise and a threat.

"Tomorrow!" Hinata squealed in Yamaguchi's ear, excited almost beyond the bearing.

And Yamaguchi merely nodded, weary and disconsolate. "Tomorrow."


	7. IN WHICH the Iron Island draws nearer and Yamaguchi Tadashi proves his worth.

"Land ho!" 

At the cry from the crow's nest, half of the men and boys on the gundeck rushed to the portholes to look out. The other half didn't have room to get close, and they pushed at those lucky enough to get a look, trying to jostle their way through. Hinata, for once grateful to be small, slipped his way under jutting elbows and flailing arms until he was close enough to squeeze his way in next to a cannon and look out the opening.

There wasn't much to see from this angle, just the bright blue of the ocean and the light blue of the sky constantly shifting with the waves and the rocking of the ship. But there...through the haze of the sun and murkiness of the distance... Aye, it truly was! It was an island, nothing but a strip of green and brown between land and sea, but Hinata was sure, absolutely sure, that he caught a glimpse of the mighty fortress that dominated the isle.

Someone pulled on his shoulder, dragging him away, and Hinata let himself be moved. He slipped back through the press of sweating bodies and found Yamaguchi at the back of the group. Yamaguchi stood still, his hands clasped together, making no effort to get a look for himself. That was all right. Hinata would tell him everything.

"I saw it!" he cried, hopping up in the air with his arms stretched out, unable to contain his glee. "The Iron Island! I saw the fortress, I'm sure I did! The Wall! We're almost there!"

Yamaguchi nodded, his mouth set grim. He was too anxious about tonight to spare any energy to be happy about the end of their journey. Hinata couldn't blame him, but he wished he could convince Yamaguchi that he had nothing to worry about. That everything would be all right, that Tanaka-senpai had a plan and it was certain to succeed. Yamaguchi was going to win, Hinata was sure of it, but no matter how hard he tried, he hadn't been able to transfer his conviction to Yamaguchi.

"Oi! Back to stations!" the gun master cried, furious at the interruption, and the gunners and powder boys reluctantly moved away from the portholes, back to their cannons and their burdens. Hinata's feet felt light as he raced with his cartridge to the magazine, his heart beating fast. The usual drills hardly felt like work at all.

Ever since news had spread through the crew that the Swan was going to make landfall at the Iron Island, rumors had spun that there would be shore leave for crew in good standing with the captain. Of course no confirmation of this had come from on high, and the officers were close-lipped to a man whenever someone dared to ask about it. But that didn't stop the sailors from talking endlessly about what they would do as soon as they got off the ship. It had already been over two months since Yukigaoka, and everyone was restless to stretch their legs on a surface that did not rock with the motion of the sea.

Hinata didn't give one fig for the plans of most of the sailors. Taverns and brothels and other such places held no appeal for him. But the Iron Island had a market. A huge one. It was the last bastion of civilization in the Aritossa Archipelago, after all, and almost all trade ships that sailed the wider world stopped there on their trips beyond the Shifting Sea.

The moment Yamaguchi had told him about that grand bazaar, Hinata had dreamed of nothing but seeing it. Exotic spices and fruit, so fresh and sweet that they filled the air with their scent! Beautiful woven goods from the lands to the east! Shining clockwork wonders from the intricate craftsmen of the west! And entertainers of all kinds, wandering the market and performing for coins! To Hinata it sounded like the most wonderful and exciting festival in the great wide world, and he couldn't wait to see it.

"Do you think they'll give us pay for the shore leave?" he had asked Yamaguchi, thrusting his face so close that Yamaguchi winced and leaned back to escape the flying spittle. "I hope they do! Maybe I'll be able to buy a little toy for Nacchan and take it back to Yukigaoka someday. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

"We don't even know that there will be a shore leave at all," Yamaguchi said.

"Of course there will! They wouldn't disappoint everyone after we've all longed for it so heartily and made so many plans and talked about it for so long!" 

Yamaguchi huffed in disbelief, but couldn't restrain a smile at Hinata's enthusiasm. "Aye, mayhap you're right. Captain Ushijima couldn't be that cruel."

Hinata spread his arms, grinning so hard his cheeks hurt. "Of course not! Captain Ushijima is a good captain, even if he is as boring as a clod of dirt."

"Hinata-chan!" Yamaguchi leaned forward and clapped his over Hinata's mouth, his eyes wide with alarm. He looked around, his gaze jerking back and forth, but of course they were hidden in their nook, and the sounds of the wind and gulls and the creaking of the ship concealed their voices from the rest of the ship. Still, Yamaguchi pressed against Hinata's face hard enough to hurt and hissed in warning. "Don't speak that way about the captain!"

Hinata nodded, abashed, and Yamaguchi released him and sat back, his shoulders slumping.

"Anyway, the market..." Hinata started again, unable to be subdued for long.

Yamaguchi mouth twisted in a smile, and he shook his head and listened to Hinata chatter on.

The pleasure of anticipation made the day pass quickly for Hinata. They were still several days out from the Iron Island, but every chance to sneak on deck or look out the portholes showed it growing ever larger, ever nearer. Soon it would fill the view ahead from horizon to horizon. Soon they would arrive. Hinata's steps were light, and a song swelled in his heart and burst from his lips at random intervals, earning him a slap or two from the older sailors.

Yamaguchi, on the other hand, dragged himself through the day with increasing difficulty. It was impossible to miss the dread in his eyes, the sluggish way it dragged at his every movement. At this rate he was going to be far too exhausted by nightfall for any kind of exercise, let alone a real fight. Hinata did his best to bear him up with his own cheer, but Yamaguchi refused to be lightened. 

Then, in a spare moment, Hinata spied Juan the Elder talking to Yamaguchi over in a quiet corner. The conversation began with Yamaguchi's shoulders hunched around his ears, his feet shuffling around on the deck, bashful and unsteady. But as Juan spoke, Yamaguchi's nervous movements slowly stilled, then stopped. Hinata did his best to creep closer so he could hear what was being said. It was working, whatever Juan the Elder was saying, and Hinata wanted to be able to use the same strategy in the future.

"...In any case, you can't possibly be worse off," Juan said, his strong, rough voice reaching Hinata's ears like a salty breeze. "Even if you fail, as you are so certain is to happen, you will have tried. No one can fault a man who gives his all, even if he falls short of the goal. Do your best, come what may, and I at the least will cheer heartily for you. You have my word on that."

Yamaguchi nodded at this, hesitant but sincere. Juan the Elder glanced up and saw Hinata watching. He tipped him a wink, then slipped away, back to his duties.

Hinata slid up to Yamaguchi's side and leaned toward him, nudging him with an elbow. "D'you feel better now, Yamaguchi? Huh, do ya?"

Yamaguchi looked at him sideways, then glanced away again, a flush rising in his cheeks. After a moment, he nodded. "Juan the Elder is a wise man."

"Aye, and so is Tanaka-senpai. You're going to win tonight."

Yamaguchi sighed. "But even if I don't, at least I will have tried." That notion seemed to comfort him much more than all of Tanaka and Hinata's cheerful assertions of last night and today.

Hinata refused to consider the possibility that Yamaguchi would lose. He simply couldn't imagine it happening. But he nodded, even so, willing to go along with this idea for his friend's sake. "No one faults a loser in a fight, as long as he doesn't run away. You can show courage and honor even if you don't beat your opponent, and plenty will cheer and admire the brave one who takes a beating."

Yamaguchi's shoulders came down a little more. He blew out a long, slow breath. "Aye."

"But that's not going to happen," Hinata felt compelled to repeat again. "You're going to win. I know it."

Yamaguchi turned to face him and gave him a smile, small but genuine. "I know you believe that. Thank you, Hinata-chan. I will do my best. I will not run."

Hinata nodded complacently. No other possibility existed. "Of course not."

Yamaguchi lifted his head and looked out the nearest porthole. "Oi, is the island closer already?"

"It is!" Hinata shouted, and he ran over to get another glimpse. That ended the conversation.

Yamaguchi was off his feed at supper, eating only some rice and a few lumps of soggy meat. Tanaka and Hinata sat with him, chatting amiably about whatever came to mind. Tanaka was looking forward to shore leave on the Iron Island, as well, though he planned to visit taverns as well as the market.

"I was promised a drinking contest with Pascal, and I intend to win it!" he declared, pointing his chopsticks at another young sailor in the middle of the room. "We've been mates for years now and have still never managed to have a contest, though we intend to have one at every shore leave. Something always happens to throw us off, but not this time." Tanaka threw his head back in a roar of laughter. "Wahahaha! No, this time we will have it out for once and for all, you wait and see!"

Pascal heard the laughter and looked over, giving Tanaka a sarcastic salute and a wide grin. Tanaka thumbed his nose at him and looked back at his kouhai. "See? Your senpai knows what he's about."

Hinata nodded. "Aye, it's true. And you know what you're about in the fight between Yamaguchi and Billy Hanson, too, don't you?" He glanced at Yamaguchi, willing him to listen.

Tanaka looked between them, his smile turning less boisterous, but no less confident. "True it is," he declared with the same tone as when he proclaimed his intention to win against Pascal. He nudged Yamaguchi's shoulder with a gentle fist. "Your senpai has a plan. Now, I can't promise Billy Hanson will fall for it, for he's a snake and scoundrel, and no mistake. You can never be too sure what course snakes and scoundrels will choose. But I think I have a good chance of succeeding. I just need to provoke him in the right way, and the test between ya will be one I am sure and certain that you'll be able to win."

Yamaguchi considered this, then nodded. He ate another piece of meat.

“But no matter what,” Tanaka said, bending low to speak only to them. “This will be the end of it, Yama-chan. I swear it.”

Yamaguchi looked at him, his eyes hooded.

Tanaka nodded sharply. “If Billy Hanson doesn’t leave ya alone after this, I’ll break his leg.”

Hinata nearly choked in shock. “Senpai…!”

Tanaka held up a hand to quiet him. “I’ll make it look like an accident, and no one will know it was me. It itches at my soul to be so underhanded, but for your sake, I will not risk being caught and punished. But Billy will know, and he’ll never trouble ya again.”

Yamaguchi stared at the deck. Every bit of tension seemed to run out of his body at once, and Hinata understood what Tanaka had done. Even if Yamaguchi “failed,” it wouldn’t really be a failure. Juan the Elder had started the process of convincing Yamaguchi of this, and Tanaka had finished it.

And now that Yamaguchi was relaxed and at ease, he was that much more certain to win. Hinata was sure of it.

Yamaguchi managed to finish most of his food. Then they went up on deck to wait.

The crowd was the biggest it had ever been. Rumors had spread through the ship that two of the powder boys were going to have it out in a fist fight, and almost no one could resist such a sight. Hinata was almost sure, this time, that he spotted Captain Ushijima watching on the quarterdeck, a small shadow beside him that might have been the mysterious navigator. Hinata didn't have much attention to spare for such trivial matters, though. He was too busy doing his best to support his friend.

Yamaguchi stood still on the deck, his eyes closed and his head bowed, his hands curled into fists at his sides. Tanaka stood next to him, one hand firm on his shoulder. Hinata circled around, excitedly urging the crowd to keep back. It reminded him of the occasional boxing match back in Yukigaoka, two shirtless men in a roped off square beating the hell out of each other with their bare knuckles, sweat and blood and spit flying in all directions, until one or other gave way or was knocked unconscious. Hinata was determined to be the best ringman he could be, even though he was positive that the fight would be short and quickly decided.

Billy Hanson took his time arriving. Maybe he wanted to draw it out as long he could—the expression on his face made it clear how much he relished the attention from the gathered sailors. Some were cheering. Some clapped him on the back and offered words of advice or encouragement. All were intensely interested. For a powder boy on a navy ship, the lowest of the low, it was a heady moment.

Billy marched up to where Yamaguchi stood and halted a few paces away, his face set in determination. He raised his fists, his eyes glinting in the fading sunlight, and sneered to Tanaka's face. "I'm ready to fight. Let's get this over with."

Yamaguchi opened his eyes and looked him. His face was blank. Now that the moment had come, all fear was banished. Tanaka patted his shoulder and stepped away, standing between him and Billy Hanson.

Tanaka folded his arms over his chest, looking down at Billy Hanson from his lofty height, half a head taller. "You're ready to fight, aye. You're the kind who's always spoiling for a fight. But are you ready to show your mettle? Are you ready to prove yourself a man?"

Billy's forehead wrinkled. "Didn't I just say I was? I don't understand what you mean."

Tanaka bounced on his toes and turned sideways to sweep his hands outward, encompassing both Billy and Yamaguchi. "I mean that there's more to proving yourself than simply scrapping together like schoolyard children. You say you're ready to fight, aye, but that's not what I invited ya here to do. I said we'd have a test. I never said it would be a boxing match."

Billy took half a step back in confusion, and there was a general mutter of disgruntlement in the crowd. "Oi, what's this, then!" "I thought there was going to be a real fight to watch—what's this codswallop you're talking, Tanaka Ryuu?" "Give us the show you promised, younguns!"

Billy glanced around, taking the crowd's unhappiness as a sign of support, and straightened his shoulders as he faced Tanaka head on. "What did you mean when you said we'd have a test, then?"

Tanaka's attention never wavered from Billy. The murmurs of the crowd meant nothing to him. He maintained his sharp-toothed smile, the bright gleam in his eye. And his voice rang out like cannon fire. "Anyone can bully someone smaller and younger than themselves. That's no mark of manhood. You wish to prove your mettle, don't ya? You wish to show yourself stronger and tougher and better to suited to life asea than Yamaguchi Tadashi? That's why ya challenged him yesterday, and that's why ya came tonight. Is it not so?"

Billy Hanson hesitated. He glanced around again, but this time the crowd was still, waiting to see how this would play out. After a moment, he nodded, and he firmed his stance on deck. "Aye. It's so. I came to prove my mettle, and to prove that Pimple-Face Tadashi is nothing but a cowardly little worm who should be sent home to cry in his mother's apron."

Tanaka laughed, hard and loud. A ringing note of triumph brightened the sound, sharp and unexpected. He moved behind Yamaguchi and placed his hands firm on his shoulders, still facing Billy Hanson and smiling boldly. "Then prove yourself a man. Take a punch from my kouhai. Just one punch, that's all. With your hands at your sides, doing nothing to stop it. That is the test I've set for ya. Will you take it?"

"Eh? Oi, now, that's not what..." Billy faltered, his voice stuttering, his fists falling to his sides. The watchers had begun to laugh and jostle each other, in high spirits once again. The entertainment was not quite what they had expected, but it would do. Billy looked around, but found no support this time.

"That's it, powder monkey! Take a punch! Prove yourself a man!"

"Aye, you think yourself a brave sailor, doncha? Show you've got sand!"

"One punch, that'll do for ya! One punch from a boy two years younger! Let's see it!"

Billy couldn't back down in the face of this. A few panted breaths, a shivering of the shoulders, and he faced Tanaka and Yamaguchi again. He grit his teeth, snarling, and the light in his eyes was both hard and desperate. "I can take a punch from Yamaguchi Tadashi! Do your worst, Pimple-Face. It'll be nothing at all!"

Tanaka leaned down, murmuring in Yamaguchi's ear. Yamaguchi nodded, once. His mouth was set and his eyes were cold. Hinata stepped back, watching in awe. Tanaka patted his shoulders with both hands, then stepped back. He nudged Yamaguchi forward as he moved, as if sending him off.

Yamaguchi was moving before Tanaka's hands fell away. He stalked toward Billy Hanson, leaning forward, his steps loud on the deck. His fists were up and ready, hard as rocks though the knuckles were white.

Billy watched him come, pale as seafoam. Sweat ran down his cheek, and his expression was tight. He was already regretting his decision just from watching Yamaguchi move toward him. But he kept the bargain. His fists remained at his sides, trembling, the tendons in his forearms standing out.

The crowd hooted and yelled. Yamaguchi reached Billy Hanson. And he punched him in the stomach. 

In that one punch was every drop of sweat he had shed in their nightly lessons, every pant of exhausted breath, every groan of pain and dread. Every second he had spent recovering from too much training with his head spinning and his stomach heaving, every moment he had wasted worrying about this confrontation, every hour he had believed himself weak and unworthy because of the way he had been treated by this petty monster when he was a child. Every last bit of his protectiveness for Hinata, his admiration for Tanaka, his pride in himself. All went into that punch. It was a mighty blow indeed.

Billy Hanson fell as if he had been shattered.


	8. IN WHICH some changes occur in the aftermath of battle.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extra long to make up for the wait. Please enjoy.

"That's it, Hinata! Forward step. Steady stance! Now thrust. And again! Aye, lad, you've got it! Let's try it again."

Hinata nodded and grinned at Juan the Elder. He stretched out his sore shoulders and swiped the sweat from his forehead as he moved back to the beginning position. He held the bokken in both hands, straight out from his body as a sword should be.

"On with ye, lad!" Juan the Elder said, and Hinata moved.

He stepped forward, taking care to keep his movements light, his muscles taut, his balance sure. And he turned on his heel, stepping forward on his left foot and thrusting the sword forward, letting his momentum carry him. He straightened and looked back to the older sailor, beaming, for he knew he'd gotten it right that time.

Juan the Elder nodded, slow and proud. "Aye, that's it. You know what you're about."

Hinata's nose wrinkled as he smiled. 

The evening lessons had not stopped with Billy and Yamaguchi's fight. Instead, they had expanded. Other powder boys had approached Tanaka and asked for lessons in how to fight, and Tanaka had been delighted to gain more kouhai. Hinata had never noticed it, but Yamaguchi later told him that Billy and his mates had intimidated most of the powder boys. Now those who used to fear Billy had seen him broken by a single punch, and they saw a way out, and they took it.

In addition to more students, there were also more teachers now. Juan the Elder had volunteered to teach Yamaguchi and Hinata the basics of swordplay, and they had accepted gladly. Another sailor stepped up to teach wrestling, and another one said he would show the boys proper guncraft. They couldn't use any ammunition, but learning how to hold a pistol and the best way to aim was still valuable.

All in all, the deck of the Swan had somehow become a school for fighting styles of all kinds. It was something of a surprise, but a welcome one. Hinata certainly liked it a lot more than he'd ever liked school back in Yukigaoka. 

"Now, twenty more repetitions as steady as that one, and you'll have that movement fixed in your memory." Juan the Elder stood straight, his arms crossed over his chest.

Hinata groaned. He had hoped that he would get to learn something new once he proved that he was able to do the basic thrust correctly. _"Twenty_ more? Truly? Are you going to watch each one?"

Juan rubbed his nose. "Nay, lad, I cannot give my teaching only to you. I need to instruct Yamaguchi and the other boys as well. You must bear witness of yourself, and know in your body and heart whether you've done each movement aright. I will trust you to tell me true when you've done it twenty times. I know you'll not lie to me."

Hinata snapped straight, his heart pounding loud. "Nay, I will not!" His grip on the practice sword tightened with the force of his will.

Juan the Elder nodded. "Aye, aye. I'll go to the others now. You continue rehearsing the thrust."

Hinata gave him a salute, even though it was not in the least required. Not only was it after duty hours, only the moon and the ship's lanterns providing light for the lessons, but Juan was not truly his superior. But the older man laughed and saluted back to him, then turned to the other boys.

Hinata drew a deep breath, filling his lungs, and scrubbed his sleeve over his face to wipe away the sweat. When he raised his eyes, his gaze fell on the quarterdeck. Again he saw that stiff-shouldered figure, dark against the stars. The captain? Could he truly be watching?

Well, if so, then Hinata would display his diligence. He turned back to the sword drill, determined to do it correctly twenty times before Juan had a moment to attend to him again. He would be ready for the next step no matter the cost. Even in his haze of his concentration, though, he was still aware of Yamaguchi in the corner of his eye, straight and tall with a bokken in his hands. 

Since Yamaguchi punched Billy Hanson, a few things had changed. Nothing obvious, at first. After Billy fell to the deck, curled up around his stomach with no breath even to howl, Yamaguchi's eyes went wide. He stumbled backward on the deck, bumble-footed, all the grace and power of that final charge vanished from his limbs. Tanaka caught his shoulders and held him as Yamaguchi shook and panted.

The crowd cheered and yelled. They rushed forward, everyone wanting to pat Yamaguchi's shoulders, pound his back, ruffle his hair. Yamaguchi recoiled, the whites of his eyes showing, round and staring like a panicked horse. He wrenched sideways in Tanaka's grip, almost tearing loose, almost sprawling his length upon the deck. Tanaka clenched his fists in the fabric of his shirt and held him up, then tugged him away, away from the press of bodies, the chaos of voice and touch and unwelcome praise.

Hinata rushed into the gap, accepting the praise in Yamaguchi's stead. "Did you see how grand it was!" he cried, throwing his hands above his head. "We learned that together! Tanaka-senpai taught us both!"

Fortunately, the sailors accepted this substitution and let Yamaguchi escape, pouring their enthusiasm over Hinata instead. Hinata heard Yamaguchi vomiting, though, his ears tuned to every nuance of his friend's movements. He heard Tanaka's rough, soothing voice, telling him to get it all out. Somewhere in the back of the crowd, Billy Hanson's mates hauled him to his feet and carried him away.

It was a tumultuous time. But it passed. By the next day, most of the crew seemed to have forgotten it. It was only a moment's entertainment, after all, a passing argument between two powder monkeys. It had been no more serious than a squall rising suddenly to pour rain over the deck, then disappear into mist.

Some storms shaped the landscape, though, changing the course of rivers and streams, flooding towns and washing away detritus. The changes wrought by this one might have been subtle at first, but they were strong, and they were there. The deck had become a school. The older sailors were teaching the younger, led by Tanaka's example. 

And Yamaguchi didn't carry himself the same way he used to. He was still Yamaguchi—still sometimes nervous, still usually shy, quiet when he saw no need to speak, fulfilling every task given him with his jaw clenched in determination. He still preferred to listen to Tanaka and Hinata chatter rather than to lead a conversation himself, and he still didn't much care for the sight of the water.

But he wasn't scared anymore. Not of Billy Hanson, and not of himself. Now when he saw Billy and his mates hanging about, Yamaguchi lifted his chin and eyed them coldly. He no longer shrank into himself in an effort to appear invisible. The three bully-boys found other places they'd rather be as soon as they could.

He didn't shrink around anyone else, either. Billy Hanson and the memories of schoolyard torment had been Yamaguchi's dam, his barrier, the blockage that kept him from himself, and the storm had washed it all away.

"Oi, Hinata. Are you not done yet?"

Hinata looked up, a film of sweat obscuring his vision. The face in front of him was a blur, and he was breathing so hard that the entire world shivered with the force of it. He lowered the bokken in one hand and rubbed the other hand over his face, then looked at the figure before him again. Yamaguchi stood there, tall and steady, frowning at Hinata with his forehead creased like an old man's.

"You're working too hard," Yamaguchi said. He reached out and snatched away the bokken before Hinata could react. Hinata protested and stretched for it, but Yamaguchi held it out of reach. "Everyone else has gone to bed and all. We work all day for the guns, and then you do this too? You need to rest. You'll have plenty of time to learn all that you need to learn."

"But I want to know it _now,"_ Hinata said. He was aware that his voice was high and whining. It reminded him of his little sister, so far away back on Miyagi Isle. The memory was like a sharp spike through his chest, and he gasped suddenly, blinking.

Yamaguchi's frown deepened. "You'll have time," he said again. "Come along, to bed with us. Tanaka-senpai is playing cards with Pascal and won't share his tales with us tonight, but I can tell you the one about the maiden in the tower."

Hinata hesitated. He loved the story of the maiden in the tower, and Yamaguchi told it very well. "But I have to do the thrust correctly twenty times before Juan the Elder will show me another sword move."

"Then you can finish tomorrow and all."

"Yamaguucchiiiii!" Hinata made another play for the bokken, jumping up and swiping for it with both hands, but his legs failed him and his usually impressive leap became nothing more than a bunny hop. Yamaguchi barely had to move at all to keep the bokken out of reach.

That, more than anything else, convinced Hinata that he needed to rest. He fell back to the deck with a heavy sigh, blinking with eyes wide and wavering. He noticed that the lanterns had been doused and he could see almost nothing.

"Come now." Yamaguchi's voice had softened. He patted Hinata's head with his free hand, gentle and kind. "The hammocks are calling us."

"Aye," Hinata said. Yamaguchi led the way, one hand holding the bokken, the other wrapped loosely around Hinata's wrist.

Something had shifted between Hinata and Yamaguchi, too. When they met in that close, stifling room at the beginning of this journey, two newly conscripted powder boys shocked and disoriented by the abrupt change in their lives, Hinata had believed with all his heart that he needed to look after Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi was physically larger than Hinata, and he was smarter and more skilled in a lot of ways. But Hinata had felt that Yamaguchi was an innocent to the world who needed to be sheltered and protected, and he had done his best to be like a big brother to his newfound friend.

Now, the balance had shifted. Yamaguchi hadn't only punched Billy Hanson for his own sake. He had done it for Hinata's, too. Indeed, if it had been only for himself, Yamaguchi might not have punched Billy at all. But with Hinata involved, it was different. Because he could not allow Billy to threaten Hinata, to insult him and bully him. He could not allow Hinata to be treated the way he had been treated. 

Yamaguchi had suffered through those weeks of training, fighting hard against every weakness in his body, every hesitation in his brain, every impulse that told to him give up, that it wasn't worth it, that he didn't have the strength. He had persevered, and he had grown, and he had learned. All for his redheaded friend, who was small and bright and energetic and could not be allowed to be harmed.

After a day or two, Hinata began to realize that Yamaguchi still carried these feelings. Before, if something happened that merited fear, like a fight between a couple of older sailors or an officer ranting at the rank-and-file's laziness, Yamaguchi would have edged backward and hunched his shoulders. He would have pressed closer to Hinata’s shoulder in search of connection and solidarity, which Hinata had always been happy to provide.

Now, Yamaguchi stood straighter. If he and Hinata were near each other, he would firm his shoulders and move forward, placing Hinata behind and to the side. His hands clenched into fists, trembling at his sides, and his face was blank with his effort to control his own fright. But he chose to stand in front of Hinata. To make himself the target if anything dangerous came their way.

Hinata was both heartened and irritated by this change. He was glad that Yamaguchi was feeling more confident and sure of himself, but Hinata was a sailor! He was strong and tough! He'd learned how to fistfight, the same as Yamaguchi! He just hadn't gotten a chance to punch anybody, that was all. Once he did, maybe Yamaguchi would notice that Hinata didn't need him to shield him, and they could just stand shoulder to shoulder again. That was better. Hinata had liked that.

It was true, anyway, that he could no longer think of Yamaguchi as a younger brother who needed to be sheltered. But they were still brothers, for certain, and Tanaka would always be their nii-san. They were equals and they were family. They always would be. 

X

The first time Billy approached him, Hinata had no idea what was going on. It was during a water break, when the men and boys who worked the gundeck were given a few minutes to rehydrate themselves before the work began again. The guns Yamaguchi and Hinata were assigned to were on opposite sides of the ship, so they rarely were able to even see each other during these short breaks, both trapped by the crowd against the walls.

Hinata had filled his cup from the water barrel and moved away from the press, slipping beneath elbows and dodging torsos in his quest for the edge of the deck. He found a spot by a gunhole where he could stand and sip his brackish, bitter water, gazing out at the sliver of the Iron Island that was visible from this vantagepoint, dreaming about the market and the fortress and solid ground beneath his feet.

The sudden presence at his side was a shock. Hinata hadn't heard the other person approach, focused on his daydreams, and when someone made a noise—too close, too unexpected—he jumped away and hit his back against the wall. His wooden cup fell to the floor and bounced, splashing water over his shoes, and he raised his fists in a reflexive boxing stance.

"Uwaah! Wh-what is it? You wanna fight?"

Billy Hanson stood there, looking chagrined. He backed off, raising his hands in a show of surrender. "I meant no harm. I just wanted to say hello."

Hinata hunched his shoulders, tensing up even more when he realized who he was talking to. He looked around, trying to peer behind Billy's body, but didn't see Billy's two mates anywhere about. After a moment, he went still against the wall again and stared at Billy without blinking. "Hello," he responded, slow and cautious.

Billy looked around, too, and Hinata thought he read true fear in his eyes. "Is Tadashi with you?"

Hinata bared his teeth. "Oi, don't call him that. You don't have the right. You call him Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi- _san."_

Billy nodded right away, head bobbing up and down, eyes wide. "Of course, of course. Yamaguchi-san. He's not with you, is he?"

"What if he isn't? You gonna mess with me just because he's not here?"

Billy sighed and lowered his hands. "You're not understanding me. I didn't come to fight with you. I wanted to apologize."

Hinata narrowed his eyes. He didn't believe a word. Not for one second. "You should apologize to Yamaguchi-san. Not to me."

"Aye, but I didn't think he'd believe me. I thought perhaps you could carry the message for me."

"I don't believe you either," Hinata said haughtily. "You bullied Yamaguchi when he was little and you bullied us just a few weeks ago. Why would you apologize now? You're trying to trick me."

"It's not a trick!" Billy's eyes widened. It all seemed very sincere. Hinata could feel himself begin to waver. "Yamaguchi-san showed me the light. We were wrong to call him a weakling. He's strong. We're sorry for the way we acted, and we hope we can all be friends now."

Hinata stared at him. He glanced behind Billy and saw Yokote, the leader of the powder boys, watching from a short distance away with his arms crossed over his chest. Was that it? Their leader was forcing Billy Hanson to apologize? Could he really mean it, or was he just afraid of a beating?

Hinata met Billy's eyes again. "I won't let you bother Yamaguchi. He doesn't want to see you."

Billy nodded, and something like relief crossed his face. "Of course. We'll be careful to stay out of his path. Just...please...give him our regrets. We won't bother either of you again."

Hinata accepted this, for it was, after all, Yamaguchi's rightful due. Billy's respect was too late and too little to repair the damage he'd done, but that didn't mean it shouldn't be offered. Yamaguchi deserved that much from them.

"Aye, then." Hinata slowly relaxed from his defensive position, standing away from the wall with his arms lowering to his sides again. "I'll give him the message."

"That would be grand." Billy's eyes remained wide and sincere. "You...both of you...showed us the error of our ways. Yamaguchi is a mighty sailor, and so are you, Hinata-san."

Hinata couldn't help but puff up at this. He still suspected a trick, but Billy was quickly convincing him of his sincerity. "Aye, it's the truth."

"Perhaps...we can be friends? Or at least crewmates? The three of us aren't enough for any of the good card games... Will you play with us, at least a little?" 

“Me?” Hinata narrowed his eyes. “You want me to game with you?”

“Only when you have the time, of course. We need a fourth for Hanafuda. And we could play Liar’s Dice! And…” Billy trailed off, aware of Hinata’s discomfort. “Whatever you’d like, of course.”

“Maybe.” Hinata was willing to allow the possibility. He didn’t think he’d have time, though. He was much too busy with his training in the evenings, and any break he could, he’d rather spend with Yamaguchi than with these knaves.

Billy nodded. “Aye, to be sure. I’ll leave you to enjoy your water.”

He wandered away into the crowd. Hinata watched him, then slowly bent down to pick up his cup again. It had to be a trick, didn’t it? Under no circumstances could he believe a word out of that bully’s mouth. 

It would be nice if it was true, though. It was what Hinata had wanted from the beginning—to be comrades, to be shipmates, with no bad blood and no hard feelings. It did make sense to him that they would respect Yamaguchi now, and perhaps even feel some regret for the way they’d acted in the past.

He certainly wasn’t going to game with them, though. Nay, nay, a thousand times nay. They weren’t friends. He wasn’t going to pretend to be their friend.

Billy and his mates approached him the next day during midday break while the sailors gnawed their smoke fish and gulped their bowls of rice. They had a pack of Hanafuda cards, and Hinata didn’t refuse. He hadn’t gotten to play any card games since Yukigaoka, and he wanted to be sure that his skills hadn’t atrophied. Sure enough, he won the first game handily. And the second.

He didn’t notice Yamaguchi watching from a small distance, waiting for Hinata to join him in their sheltered nook for their usual mealtime chat. Eventually, Yamaguchi stopped waiting. 

He didn’t game with Billy every day. Most breaks, he still stole away to while away the time with Yamaguchi. And if Billy and his friends saw Yamaguchi anywhere nearby, they didn’t approach Hinata to begin with. Hinata was not oblivious to the tension, but he didn’t know what to do about it. He had conveyed Billy's message of respect to Yamaguchi, and was not at all surprised when Yamaguchi believed not a word of it.

The time together in their little nook was still fun, despite everything, and Hinata wouldn't want to give it up. One benefit of the shift between them was that Yamaguchi was a lot more talkative now, at least when they were alone. He wasn't scared anymore about showing his true feelings about the things they talked about, either. 

Sometimes he was downright blunt, though, which wasn't as nice.

"You need to learn to read a little better," Yamaguchi said once, after watching Hinata struggle through half a page of a pamphlet some of the powder boys had been passing around for entertainment purposes. The pamphlet was a treatise on naval tactics, which might have been dry reading in other situations, but everyone trapped aboard a ship would take whatever amusement they could find. Hinata had found it interesting, even though he had to stop and sound out every fifth word, and he got half the characters wrong at least a third of the time.

Hinata scowled at Yamaguchi. "I'm doing fine!" he said. "Someday I'm gonna be a captain, so I need to know about...tactics." He had to sound the last word out carefully, and even then he wasn't sure he'd said it right.

Yamaguchi, to his everlasting credit, refrained from rolling his eyes. "Captains are gentlemen, though. Gentlemen have to be able to read. You'll be dealing with all sorts of documents, like contracts and charters and course plans and all."

Hinata waved a hand in dismissal. "I'll have a crew to take care of that piffle. My first mate will be really smart, and he can deal with all the papers and suchlike."

"Who would that be?" Yamaguchi's forehead wrinkled up.

"You, of course!" Hinata beamed at him, wide and unafraid.

Yamaguchi squeaked in shock, falling back with his hands pressed to his chest. "I don't want to be a first mate!"

Hinata nodded. "I know, I know. No one wants to have to be a gentleman, like you were saying a captain has to be. Never and ever would I want to be a gentleman." He shook his head solemnly. Then he leaned closer in to Yamaguchi's face, watching him without blinking. His voice was low. "But we won't be like that, Yamaguchi-san. We won't be gentlemen, because we won't have to be. We'll be pirates, and pirates are free."

"Don't say things like that!" Yamaguchi looked around, as if anyone could see them or hear them. Some habits died hard. "We're aboard a _navy_ vessel. Navymen _hang_ pirates."

Hinata slumped at the reminder. "Aye, 'tis true. Juan the Younger said that Captain Ushi hanged a pirate not more than a month before we came aboard."

Yamaguchi gritted his teeth. "Don't listen to Juan the Younger. Tanaka-senpai says he's a poxy rake. And don't call the captain that. You'll be whipped for sure."

Hinata was silent for a moment, watching Yamaguchi with a speculative gleam his eye. "You've gotten kind of bossy, Yamaguchi."

Yamaguchi groaned and slumped down, hiding his flaming face in his hands. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I think it's grand." Hinata puffed himself up and reached out to slap Yamaguchi on the shoulder. "You've become a man, Yamaguchi-san. You shouldn't be ashamed of it."

Yamaguchi dragged his hands down his face and peeked at Hinata over his fingers. "You've been spending too much time around Billy Hanson and his mates. They patter a lot of nonsense, and it's corrupting you and all."

Hinata shrugged. He had been nervous at first, just waiting for them to start talking cruelly about Yamaguchi again, or for them to suddenly insult him and run away, laughing at how they'd fooled him. But if anything, the three of them seemed nervous around him, too. Hinata had gotten over his reticence pretty quickly. They were just boys like everyone else, trapped on a navy ship far from home. He would never forgive them for the way they had treated Yamaguchi, but he couldn't hate them. 

He shuffled his feet on the deck, now, uncomfortable because he didn't like Yamaguchi being upset. He couldn't truly defend his decision to accept Billy's company, but he also couldn't say that he'd been wrong. "They're just foolish boys, like any of us."

"They're teaching you bad habits. You need to stop picking up the way they talk."

Hinata heaved a sigh and agreed, more for Yamaguchi's sake than for his own. "Aye. I'll do my best to avoid that in the future."

Yamaguchi nodded, though he clearly wasn’t satisfied. He’d be happier if Hinata cut off his association with them completely. But Hinata was unwilling to break off any friendship he had begun to form, even one as uncomfortable and wary as this.

X

The Iron Island grew ever larger on the horizon until it filled the view ahead and dominated the sea. Hinata never tired of watching it approach, this grand island of green forests and white beaches, built up with a fine large town and topped with the black and gray of a mighty fortress. A few days after "Land ho!" first rang from the crow's nest, Hinata was able to make out the details of the harbor, the wide mouth flanked by watchtowers on both sides. He could see nothing of the chain boom, but he was not surprised that it would be lowered, since the Swan was coming into port.

Hinata was not the only crew member excited by the sight of the island drawing closer every hour. Indeed, the entire ship was abuzz with it. The conscripts were somewhat less enthused than the volunteers, since their chance of being allowed a leave was lower. But still, everyone thought they had a chance of being allowed off the ship. The Iron Island was a trade hub, but it was far enough from the central isles of the Archipelago that the officers might not be greatly afeared of the pressed sailors jumping ship.

"When we were at port on a central isle, anyone who called that place home wouldn't even be allowed above deck," Tanaka told Hinata and Yamaguchi once, deep in the night watches when only the three of them were still awake belowdecks. Even then, his voice was low, the tone somber. Hinata was typically oblivious to nuance, but even he could hear the pain in his senpai's voice.

"When we anchor in Karasuno, I never have a chance even to get a glimpse of my hometown. They shackle us at night, just on the chance we might try to run." He sighed, the sound almost buried under the creaking of the ship, the sway of the hammocks. "At other ports, other shore leaves, I tried to send letters to let my sister know that I was alive. But I don't know if she ever got them. For all I know, she believes me dead."

"That's hard," Yamaguchi murmured. "That's devilish hard, that is. I suppose they'll treat us the same, if ever we return to Miyagi."

"Aye, they will. Don't be shocked by it. Only be strong and endure as best you can. All will pass in time."

Hinata shivered, staring glumly up at the dark ceiling above his head. It would be unbearably awful to be in port at Yukigaoka, to know that his mother and father and sister and friends were only a few minutes' run away, and to not even be able to glimpse the wharf where he used to play with his gang. His wrists and arms ached with the phantom weight of shackles, and he curled into himself and tried to wish himself away, away, anywhere but this ship, this life he had not chosen for himself.

Nay, he could not think like that. Life on the sea did not have to be a burden. Pleasure and beauty was to be found everywhere for those with eyes to see it, to find it, to recognize its existence. "Senpai," he murmured. "Tell us about the Seacrow."

“Aye,” Tanaka said, soft and low. “The Seacrow…”

The tale began again.

The Iron Island wouldn’t be like that. The Iron Island was a haven open to all good ships who sailed the sea. Hinata held tight to that promise with both fists, knuckles turning white.

Then came at last the day when they reached the harbor and sailed through the open sea gate, and every man aboard the Swan yelled and cheered to greet the journey's end. 

The bustle and activity on deck was enthralling. Hinata was careful to keep well back, watching with wide eyes the well-rehearsed dance of the seasoned sailors trimming the sails, following the shouted commands of the pilot and the captain as this sail and then that was furled in order to keep the speed of the ship at just the right clip. The pilot and the navigator both hauled at the wheel, making the aim true, and even Ushijima could not quite keep his usual mask of sturdy complacency.

A harbor was a shelter, but it was also a place of danger for ships. It would not do for them to crash into any of the ships already anchored here, nor to scrape along the dock when they came in. They were a proud navy vessel, and such behavior would be utterly mortifying for a lady of the Swan's stature and dignity.

Of course, they did nothing of the sort. The hand at the tiller was steady, and the men at the sails were swift and skilled. The Swan glided in to dock as lightly as any feather on a breeze. Hinata watched in awe, his mouth hanging open, and swayed gently with the movement as the ship bumped harmlessly into the dock, then was still. It was the first time he'd watched a ship dock from the deck instead of the shore, and it had been as flawless as flawless could be.

When the touchy operation was finished at last, the crew gathered on the deck cheered, throwing their caps in the air and pounding each other on the back. Then a whistle split the air, sharp and sudden. The sailors fell silent and turned to the noise, suddenly at attention.

Captain Ushijima stood on the quarterdeck, the first mate at his shoulder with the whistle to his lips. The whistle was lowered, and captain looked over the crew, slow and solemn. His thick eyebrows overhung his eyes like the eaves of a house, and his lips were set and firm.

"Crewmen," he said, his flat, strong voice flooding over the deck. The sailors stood silent, only the sound of the breeze in the loose sails and the screech of harbor birds providing background to the captain's words. Captain Ushijima frowned. "It has come to my attention that many of you are expecting there to be shore leave."

The crewmen looked at each other, but didn't dare speak. They all knew the rumors had had no substance behind them, but that hadn't stopped them from hoping. They looked to their captain, waiting his word.

Ushijima pressed his lips together as if in disapproval. Hinata held his breath. Oh, please, please let them have shore leave. He wanted to feel solid ground beneath his feet so very, very badly. He wanted to see the market. He wanted to buy a gift for Natsu.

Ushijima's mouth opened. "In truth, I had no intention of allowing shore leave. You lot are slovenly, badly disciplined, and sorely lacking as sailors and as men. I could not see how any sort of leave could possibly be beneficial for any of you."

The stillness of the crew changed in character. At the moment it was stunned and speechless, but in moments there would be discontent, grumbling, and a dangerous lack of respect. Hinata could feel it coming, and he looked around, his shoulders hunching toward his ears.

Then the first mate nudged Ushijima's arm. He blinked and glanced at him, then looked back over the crew. "Oh, yes. But my mind was changed. I saw how some of you had taken upon yourselves to learn different styles of fighting outside of the usual drills. You were teaching each other with no expectation of reward, simply enjoying the building of your own strength. I approve of that. Most heartily."

An awkward silence fell. The crew looked at each other, then at the captain. No one knew what to expect. 

The first mate nudged Ushijima's arm again, and he blinked, then spoke. "Shore leave will be allowed for certain members of the crew. Do not ask for it, nor pester the officers about whether or not you will be let ashore. Those of you who have earned the privilege will be informed and allowed leave when it is convenient for us, not for you. But if we are forced to tarry here long enough, perhaps many or most of you will earn the right to visit the Iron Island."

Again, the character of the silence had changed. Now it was charged not with unhappiness and rebellion, but with joy.

Ushijima nodded, stiffly, once. "That is all." He turned and left the quarterdeck, the first mate at his heels.

The crew waited until his back had disappeared into the cabin. And then cacophony let loose.


	9. IN WHICH our heroes begin their adventures on the Iron Island.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra long because I don't know where to stop.

"We're going ashore, we're going ashore, we're finally, finally going ashore!"

Hinata sang as he dug around in his locker, so full of energy that he could barely stay still long enough to find what he needed. Yamaguchi knelt nearby at his own locker, moving with a great deal more control and composure, though excitement shivered in his fingers and made the stray lock of hair on the top of his head bounce around. Hinata pulled out his shirt, long ago stuffed into the locker wadded up in a ball, and tried to shake it out.

"It will feel strange to wear civilian clothes again," Yamaguchi said as he pulled out his own outfit. He tugged at his uniform shirt with a sharp, sudden movement, as if he couldn't bear the touch of it on his skin anymore. Now that the opportunity had come to get out of their navy uniforms, neither Yamaguchi nor Hinata could wait any longer.

With the captain's announcement two days ago, Hinata had been sure that he, Yamaguchi, and Tanaka would be given shore leave. Captain Ushijima had said that it was the sailors teaching each other to fight that had convinced him to allow it, and the three of them had started that trend together. If anyone in the entire crew would be allowed to visit the Iron Island, surely it would be them.

The officers had made them wait, though. The first day, only the captain and a few of his top brass had gone ashore to talk with the local government and conduct official business. The crew that night had been boisterous in their merrymaking, singing and gaming and drinking their sake and rum rations with abandon. Hinata and Tanaka had joined in, of course, accepting the shoulder slaps and praise of the crew for their part in assuring that everyone would have a chance for shore leave. Yamaguchi had been more reticent, but he had smiled, too, and even sang along with some of the chanties.

The next day, Hinata struggled to keep from pestering the officers about when they could go ashore. If the captain hadn't warned against such behavior, he probably wouldn't have been able to resist. The struggle became much harder when a few sailors were allowed to leave the ship. They were senior fellows, most of them volunteers instead of conscripts, and the majority of them had had nothing at all to do with the school on the deck. Yamaguchi patted his head in warning, and Hinata grit his teeth and refrained from commenting. He didn't join much in the singing and gaming that night, either, too busy pouting in a corner.

But today. Today! The gunner's mate had whistled and called Yamaguchi and Hinata's names, and they ran to him and stood at attention. He told them that they had both been given shore leave, how long it would last, when they had to return, and told them to see the purser for their wages. Halfway through, Hinata's hand crept over to grip Yamaguchi's shirt in excitement, and Yamaguchi's hand found his shoulder and clenched tight. They had to hold their breath to keep from yelling in joy, and stumbled over their thanks and salutes and _aye sirs_ to the gunner's mate before they could finally run away, still clutching each other and doing their utmost not to squeal like very tiny children.

The wages the purser gave them amounted to more money than Hinata had ever seen at one time, though Yamaguchi frowned at the small handful of silver coins, hefting them in his palm. They hurried to the aft cabin, Hinata chattering about his plans for the his pay. Yamaguchi shook his head and tried to temper his eagerness with a bit of wisdom.

"This isn't much, Hinata-chan, not for three months' labor. It truly isn't. At my father's carpentry shop, this would have paid for a small wooden box. A fine box to be sure, for all of my father's handiwork was fine. But you mustn't expect to be able to buy the moon."

"I don't want the moon," Hinata said, "just a toy for Nacchan."

"Still and all. Don't expect too much."

"I'm sure you'll be able to find something at the market!" a boisterous voice rang out as they rounded the doorway into the cabin.

"Tanaka-senpai!" Hinata jumped into the air in celebration. "You have leave, too?"

Tanaka grinned, wide and gleeful. "Of course I do! We can't let you two rapscallions run about unsupervised. The Iron Island would never be the same!" He stood in the center of the cabin, already dressed in his civvies with his arms folded across his chest and his stance wide on the deck. A small round earring glittered in his ear. "Now get dressed, ya scalliwags. We're goin' ashore!"

He threw back his head and laughed. Hinata cheered loud enough to wake the dead and ran for his sea locker, Yamaguchi at his heels.

Now, Hinata held his wrinkled civilian shirt in front of his face. It still smelled of that tavern in Yukigaoka, and Hinata wrinkled his nose, not sure if he found the memories pleasant or unpleasant. The patch on one elbow made him sigh—he could still his mother sewing that for him, the glint of the needle flashing bright and quick in her clever fingers.

But he could not remain melancholic for more than a second or two. They were going ashore! Hinata skinned out of his uniform and into his old clothes in a twinkling, and raced back to Tanaka while Yamaguchi still dallied at his locker.

"Oi, Yama-chan," Tanaka called, laughter in his voice. "Didja grow while you were at sea?"

"So it seems." Yamaguchi sighed as he stood, tugging at the ends of his sleeves in a fruitless effort to make them cover the bony knobs of his wrists. His ankles were too exposed, as well, the cuffs of his trousers ending a wide breadth above his shoes.

Hinata looked at his own wrists and ankles, but saw no evidence of growth. He scowled, and Tanaka laughed and clapped his back. "You need new clothes, too, Hinata-chan! Those look raggedy enough to clothe a scarecrow."

Hinata huffed. "Well, we can find everything we need in the market."

"Aye, the market!" Tanak wrapped an arm around each of his kouhai and tugged them out the door. "To the market we go!"

The sound of their feet tromping on the gangplank sounded fundamentally different than the sound of walking on the deck. Louder, stronger, freer. Then they were on the wharf, solid as solid could be, and then on a cobbled street. Laughter burst from Hinata's lungs, sudden and unexpected, and he broke away from Tanaka and Yamaguchi and ran as fast as he could down the street that wandered along beside the dock.

Tanaka guffawed behind him, and Yamaguchi sputtered, and then Hinata heard running footsteps as they gave chase. This only spurred him to greater speed, his legs pumping and lungs billowing. The smell of the harbor, salt and seaweed and stagnant water, filled his nose and his mouth. He felt strong and hearty and free. Free as a bird, free as a gull, free as any creature that belonged only to the sea and the sky. Free as a crow.

"Hinata, Hinata!" The distress in Yamaguchi's voice made Hinata's steps falter, just a little, just enough that Yamaguchi's longer limbs allowed him to catch up in a few ground-eating strides. "Hinata, watch out!" 

Yamaguchi's fingers tangled in the back of Hinata's shirt, and he dragged the smaller boy to a stumbling halt on the side of the street just as a carriage thundered by. Hinata gasped, discovering himself wrapped in Yamaguchi's arms, the other boy protecting him from the flying hooves, the heavy weight of the wheels rushing by far too close for comfort. Then the carriage was past and gone, rattling away down the cobblestones, and Tanaka reached their side. He was huffing and puffing, and he was white as a ghost under his seafarer's tan.

"Oi, oi, Hinata-chan. You're lucky Yama-chan kept up with ya."

Hinata nodded. His heart was pounding and his throat was blocked, disallowing speech. After a moment, he said breathlessly, "Thank you, Yamaguchi-san."

Yamaguchi's arms tightened around him, then released. He stood back, trembling harder than Hinata was. Tanaka patted both of their heads. "Well, that was an adventure and no mistake. Let's go to the market now, aye?"

"Aye, aye," Hinata and Yamaguchi chorused.

They set off. Tanaka had been to the Iron Island before, and he confidently led the way. Here and there some sight would spark a memory, and he shared a little story or joke with his companions. Hinata's heart slowed in his chest, the trembling fading from his limbs, and he could see that Yamaguchi had settled as well.

At the last, the street in front of them began to open up, and Hinata heard the sounds of a large bustle and cry. The sky ahead lightened as they emerged from the buildings that pressed close on both sides, and the sounds of a broad and diverse segment of humanity grew ever louder. Hinata's heart began pounding again, but this time for a different reason.

And then...and then... 

They stepped out of the narrow, winding street and into the open air of the market. The market! It was everything Hinata had hoped for and more.

The square that held the market might have been bigger than all of Yukigaoka, it stretched so wide and so far. It was packed up and down and side to side with stalls, diverse and colorful and bumping into each other like strangers scraping elbows on a crowded street. Hinata was too untraveled to recognize the origin of each stall, but he could see the differences in styles—some wide and broad with conical roofs, some uncovered and crowded with bric-a-brac. Some had awnings in bright, jewel-like colors, and some had signs painted in languages from all over the Archipelago. And the world.

And each stall was equipped with a loud-voiced person hawking their wares. 

"Spices! Buy my spices! Coriander from the eastern reaches! Cinnamon from the southern jungles! Mint from the northern ice lakes—spearmint, peppermint, wintergreen! Hot chiles from the west! Fresh vanilla pods from here on the Iron Island! Buy my spices!" 

"Fruit! Fresh fruit! Mango so ripe it bursts in your mouth! Young coconut so fresh and soft that it will melt on your tongue! Fresh fruit!"

"Metalware! Pots and pans! Silver mirrors so smooth that you can see every beauty of your face! Miss, miss, see this mirror! See how it shines!"

"Woven goods! Silk and cashmere, flowing like water! We have tapestries of the finest make—you will swear that only mice could make such tiny knots. Woven cloth, precious and luxurious!"

Hinata didn't know where to go first. He stared at it all with eyes wide and shining, one foot starting one way, then another. He wanted to look at the finely carved woodworks in that stall on the left, and he wanted to smell all the exotic spices from around the world, and he wanted to watch the dancing bear on the edge of the square. No sooner did he choose one direction to head than something else caught his attention, and he turned toward the new delight with a joyful gasp, unable to contain himself.

Tanaka watched him with his hands on his hips, grinning fit to burst. Yamaguchi stood beside him, looking around the bustling throng with more anxiety than eagerness. He was not over-fond of crowds. But he was determined to bear the discomfort for Hinata's sake, at least.

Unable to make up his mind, Hinata turned back to his friends, half-bent in excitement with his fists in front of his body. "Where should I go? I can't decide!"

Tanaka laughed so loudly that a few passersby paused to look at him with wrinkled brows, and Yamaguchi covered his mouth with his hand to hide his smile. Hinata shook his fist at them as wrathfully as he could, though he was not in earnest. "Don't mock me! I am in true trouble here. Help me as good mates should!"

"Aye, aye, so we will," Yamaguchi said, and then he stopped, his face crinkling, as he tried to come up with some advice. "Ah...you could..."

"Could...could what?" Hinata cried. "Help me, help me!"

Tanaka shook his head, coming down from his fit of laughter. "Well, Hinata-chan, what is most important to you? What one object must you purchase above all others? Choose that as your priority, and the rest will follow after."

"Ah." Hinata straightened, blinking, and turned back to survey the market. He raised a hand to shade his eyes as he looked. "Aye, that is good advice, Tanaka-senpai. You are truly the best and wisest of senpais."

"Aye, aye, tell me more." Tanaka puffed himself up with pride.

Hinata shook his head. "No time! I must choose. There is indeed one need that rises above the rest."

Yamaguchi tilted his head. "And what's that, Hinata-chan?"

"I must find a good gift for my sister, Natsu." Hinata turned back to give them a grin, broad and easy. "It will have to be something small, since I only have a few coins. But it must be truly magical! The entire world is at my fingertips in this market, and I must find a marvel to bring back to her! Help me look!"

His mates nodded, accepting the quest. Tanaka rocked on his heels, looking over the market as had been doing. "The perfect gift could be hiding in any corner of this place. Perhaps we should split up and have a good look around, then meet back here and share what we've found."

"What a wonderful plan!" Hinata jumped up into the air to express his pleasure and approval. He set his feet to race off. 

Then he looked around, taking in the massive scale of the market, the crowds of people shouting and haggling and waving their arms, and promptly changed his mind. He turned back to the others with a sheepish smile. “Nay, in truth, I’d rather not split up.”

Yamaguchi muffled a squeak of laughter in his palm, and Tanaka chuckled and shook his head. “Aye, Hinata-chan, we’ll go together then.”

Hinata nodded in relief. 

The three of them walked through the market, stopping now and then to take a closer look at likely candidates. Hinata ran his fingers over finely woven pashmina shawls from the east and knitted caps from the north. He considered tiny carvings of ships and animals made of driftwood, shells, and soybeans. He looked at every jewelry vendor they came across, but the fine items were far outside his reach, and the ones within it didn’t look worth even the small price being asked.

Every stall packed side to side with miscellaneous junk drew his attention, and he took the time to sort through bins of broken toys (“Just a few minutes to fix it, and you’ll have a fine gift!” the stallkeeper declared) and shelves of household items of every make, material, quality, and age. They stopped to listen to musicians performing songs about the sea, about men and maidens, about battles and war. Hinata’s favorite was one woman with a stringed instrument singing about a jealous crow and a little girl. 

And still they wandered. Yamaguchi and Tanaka pointed here and there, and sometimes Hinata would run to look closer, and other times he shook his head. He even looked at a small, fine wooden box.

Nothing seemed right.

Their stomachs were beginning to growl, and even the infinitely tolerant Yamaguchi was beginning to hint that perhaps Hinata should just _choose_ something or other, when they came across one particular stall in the back corner of the market. It was small and unassuming, tucked between two much larger stalls selling produce and charcoal, and it was run by a small old man who leaned on the front board. His skin was the fairest shade Hinata had seen yet at the market, his hair was white and tufted around his ears, and small round spectacles framed his eyes. He smiled at all who passed but made no effort to draw attention to himself and his wares.

Hinata noticed, though, tilting his head in curiosity. His notice had been caught by a gleam of something metal and strange. He said not a word to his companions, but trotted immediately to the tiny stall and its tiny proprietor.

“What are you selling?” Hinata asked, bold as brass, and the little man blinked at him, then afforded him a patient smile.

“Clockworks from Caylambra. Like to see?”

Hinata nodded hugely. “Aye, please!”

The little man stepped back from the front board and turned around to sort amongst his wares. Hinata craned his head to watch him, trying to see what was going on. Very little was visible from this vantagepoint, only that intriguing glint of metal. It seemed that this seller was so confident in his product that he felt no need to line the front of his stall with his best items to catch the eye of anyone who passed. Was it a specialty shop? Something only a few people wanted or needed, so they already knew where to find it?

The stall owner stepped back to the front with something huge and heavy in his arms, bending back to accommodate the weight. He set it down on the front board with a gentle thump, and Hinata leaned forward to stare, as Yamaguchi and Tanaka crowded in behind him. He recognized the face of a clock, but nothing else about the strange contraption. Why was it shaped like a house with two stories and many doors? What were all these colorful decorations? And what was this clicking and buzzing from within?

"A cuckoo clock?" Tanaka asked, though his voice was doubtful. "I've heard of them but never seen one. But I know they're from Caylambra."

The little man nodded with a soft, pleasant smile. "Something like. Here, I to show." He spoke in the trade pidgin many of the market-goers used, but even more broken and halting than the style they usually heard (and struggled to comprehend).

But then something magical happened. The little man did something on the back of the enormous clock, tripping some small mechanism, and the hands whirred busily along to the next hour. A chime began to sound, beautiful and melodic, and then doors opened, one after the other. 

A tiny wooden man clicked out of the house on a little track, one arm holding a hammer, then other moving up and down as if he was marching. From another door came a tiny little boy holding a sword, swinging it up and down as if playing at being a soldier. They met in the middle, at a wooden anvil that popped up from the ground. The boy laid the sword down on the anvil and the man—a smith—swung his hammer down upon it as if beating it into shape. The chimes sang in perfect time, the deepest bell-like sound ringing with each swing of the hammer. Then the little figures lifted their tools and turned around, gliding back into their doors, the boy swinging the sword and the man hefting his hammer.

"Uwaaahhhh," was the only response Hinata, Yamaguchi, and Tanaka had to this marvelous display.

They had known that they would see wonders in the Iron Island marketplace. But they had never imagined something like this.

"How much does something like this cost?" Yamaguchi asked, almost in a whisper.

The little man smiled, so pleased by their reaction that the flesh around his eyes wrinkled deep in pleasure. He named a price almost as amazing as the contraption he was selling.

Tanaka straightened up from his bent position with a shiver of shock. "That's more than an able-bodied sailor would make in a year! Five years! Even ten!"

Yamaguchi looked at him. "Which is it? One, five, or ten?"

"I don't know!" Tanaka rubbed the back of his neck, sweating in distress at the question. "I'm not quick with arithmetic. It's a lot!"

Hinata was not deterred. He remained bent forward, both hands gripping the edge of the board that held the massive, magical device. "I don't want a great old clock, anyway. I just want a gift for my sister." He looked swiftly to the little stallkeeper, his eyes phosphor-bright. "D'you have anything like that? Something small? That a girl would like?"

"Gift? For sister?" The little man nodded readily. He hefted the marvelous clock off the front board with a soft grunt. The board creaked with the release of weight. 

The clock was set aside somewhere back in the stall, and Hinata watched the man's bent back as he rummaged somewhere or other. It took some time. He kept pausing as if to look at something, then he would shake his head and move on. "Gift for sister," they heard him mutter, as well as words in a strange, warbling language none of them had ever heard before. 

At last the little man straightened with a sharp, "Aha!" He lifted something in his hand, hidden from their sight by his body, then spun on his heel and came again to the front of the stall. "Gift for sister! See, see! Little bird. Very good gift."

He set it down on the board. Hinata rested his chin on his hands and stared at it with eyes wide and burning. It was indeed a little bird, polished and bright, golden-warm brass with blue glass eyes. The legs and wings were jointed, and he could see tiny gears in the neck and body.

"Little bird," Hinata murmured. He tilted his head, taking in the details. It was beautiful. 

He wanted it very badly.

"It's like a finch, but smaller," Yamaguchi said. He bent over Hinata's shoulder to study it as well, his cheek brushing the side of Hinata's head. He looked up at the little man. "What kind of bird?"

"Song sparrow. From Caylambra." The little man nodded amiably. "Pretty bird. Pretty song."

Hinata would have been happier if it had been a crow. But a sparrow was pretty grand, too, he decided at once. "Sparrow," he repeated, sounding the foreign word on his tongue.

"What does the clockwork do?" Tanaka asked.

The little man picked up the bird—even in his small hand, it was nearly lost—and wound a tiny key under the left wing. He set the sparrow down on the board again, and Hinata watched in fascination as it hopped forward, once, twice. And the wings shook out, one after the other, and the tiny head tilted so that the bird stared directly into Hinata's face with its bright blue eye. 

"Oh," Yamaguchi said in disappointment. "It doesn't sing."

The stallkeeper shook his head regretfully. "Too small. No room for bell." He smiled at Hinata, though. "Like to hear sparrow song? I to sing."

Hinata nodded at once. The little man pursed his lips together as if he was about to whistle, but what came out of his mouth was like no whistle the three boys from Miyagi had ever heard. It was liquid and warbling and warm and sweet, wavering up and down on the scale, then sounding five notes alike in a row. He sang a variation, then another tune, three lower notes and a high buzz. 

He stopped and smiled at them again. "Sparrow have many song."

Hinata stared at the clockwork bird. His eyes were beginning to water from not blinking. "How much?"

The stallkeeper bent over, too, watching Hinata from the other side of the bird. He began to speak, then stopped, his eyes narrowing. His expression was very kind. "How much in little one's purse today?"

Little one? Ah, he was referring to Hinata. Tanaka made a noise and waved his hands, but Hinata was already answering. He told the little man exactly how much the purser had given him that morning. Tanaka slapped a hand to his face, but Hinata had no idea why.

The little man stood straight and spread his arms. "Today only, that much for bird! A bargain for you! Gift for sister!"

Yamaguchi tugged urgently at the back of Hinata's shirt, trying to pull him away. He was whispering something in Hinata's ear, something about haggling and not being a fool, but Hinata had already reached into his pocket and pulled out his little handful of silver coins. He set them on the board, and the man beamed and swept them up.

Hinata reached out for the bird, but the man held up a hand. "Wait! Wait! One more!" 

He turned around and bustled in the back of the stall for another long interval, then returned with a tiny wooden box, fine-grained and smooth-sanded, with little brass hinges and a clasp the exact color of the clockwork bird. He showed Hinata how to work the key on the bird, then opened the box to reveal that it was lined with soft cloth, padded to shape. He folded up the bird's wings and legs so that it looked like it was sleeping, then nestled it safely in the box and clasped the lid securely. Last of all, he lifted the box in both hands, gently and ceremoniously, and placed it in Hinata's hands.

"Gift for sister! Good bargain! Thank you for business!"

Hinata bowed to the man, beaming so hard that his face felt like it would break. "It's a perfect gift! Thank you for selling it to me!"

"Yes, yes! Come again! Tell your friends!"

"Thank you for the bird!"

"Thank you for business!"

They yelled to each other several more times as Tanaka and Yamaguchi hauled Hinata away. Yamaguchi's face was red, and Tanaka was laughing by the time they escaped. At the end of the row of stalls, Hinata turned around and waved one more time to the little man, who was leaning out of his stall to watch them leave.

"Thank you for the bird!"

"Thank you for business!"

Yamaguchi wrapped a hand around Hinata's upper arm and tugged him around a corner, and they were out of sight. Tanaka bent over with his hands on his knees, laughing as if he would die of it, and Yamaguchi set his hands on his hips and shook his head. "You're such an innocent, Hinata-chan, I can't believe..." He stopped, overcome, and could not go on.

Hinata blinked at him. "You can't believe what?"

Yamaguchi made a strangled noise and spread his arms, indicating the entirety of the market square. "This is a bazaar! You never take the first price! You should always be bargaining and haggling, or every stallkeeper in the place will take from you hand over fist. They'd be idiots not to!"

"Aye, aye," Tanaka gasped out, raising a hand and patting the air between them in an effort to calm Yamaguchi's indignation. "But think about this. With the enormous sum that Caylambran man named for his clock, do ya really think Hinata paid a fair price for the little bird?"

Yamaguchi opened his mouth. Then he stopped, blinking. "I... Well, nay. I don't think he did and all."

Hinata frowned, looking into each of their faces in turn. "What are you saying? Do you truly think that nice little foreigner overcharged me?"

Yamaguchi rubbed his hand over his chin, his gaze far away. After a moment, he shook his head, then met Hinata's eyes. "Nay, I don't."

Hinata looked to Tanaka for an explanation.

Tanaka grinned, still fighting his laughter. "He didn't overcharge ya, Hinata-chan. He undercharged. He asked how much ya had so he could name that exact sum. That little bird must be worth far, far more. He must have liked ya a great deal. Gift for sister!" he bellowed the last, imitating the foreigner's accent. "What a bargain!"

Hinata stared down at the wooden box in his hands, his eyes wide with wonder. Even the box was a fine one, the feeling of it silky smooth against his fingers. His coins might have paid for the box alone, from what Yamaguchi had told him earlier. And the bird inside...

Tanaka stood straight, bouncing on his toes, and slapped Hinata's shoulder. "This has been a fine outing at the market, little kouhai. What say we find something to eat now? The sides of my stomach are rubbing against each other in despair."

Hinata looked up and nodded. His stomach was growling, too.

Before they moved away, though, he packed the box very, very carefully in the bottom of his satchel. He would keep this gift safe, safe, safe until he could take it home to Natsu. It was the only way he could repay that little foreigner's immense kindness to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [here's what an actual song sparrow sounds like](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qj_uYwtHV9o)   
>  [me singing the song about the jealous crow and the little girl](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/111842948011/my-sisters-bird-likes-it-when-i-sing-to-him)


	10. IN WHICH Hinata runs afoul of a marketplace guardian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, it's been so long. I missed this fic so much. ::tears of weary longing:: I was distracted by [Tanaka Week](http://archiveofourown.org/series/222722), and also I've been having health issues involving my eyes (I had a cornea transplant in my left eye a year and a half ago and it's been NOT VERY HELPFUL THIS TIME OF YEAR GAH BE A GOOD EYE WHY CAN'T YOU), but no matter. Done now. My mind is back in pirates mode and there it shall stay.
> 
> I made a playlist of songs our heroes are hearing performed in the marketplace, and it makes me very happy. I've listened to it so many times, omg. But if you'd like to hear the song about the jealous crow (as well as the song about the maiden and the captain that Terushima sang in chapter 1, and like eight others), [it's here.](http://8tracks.com/maychorian/the-iron-island-marketplace)
> 
> Also, thethoughtsthief made really awesome art of Tanaka using his intimidation tactics on Billy Hanson! ["What did you say?" Tanaka asked, low and menacing.](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/112281790776/thethoughtsthief-what-did-you-say-tanaka-asked)
> 
> Not to spoil anything, but this chapter is forcing me to add some tags to the story.

"I saw dumplings somewhere," Yamaguchi said, immediately setting off. Tanaka and Hinata had to quick-step to keep up with him. Never before had they seen Yamaguchi step out so boldly, leading the way, but hunger performed miracles, it seemed. Hinata's mouth watered at the thought of dumplings. He hoped they would have pork curry.

This trip through the market was quite different than their earlier wanderings. Before, they had stopped to look at anything that caught Hinata's eyes, meandering from side to side and changing direction at random intervals. Now, they moved in a straight line, following Yamaguchi's determined back. Hinata's eyes were still caught frequently by the wares of the merchants they passed, but it was always something edible.

Hinata hadn't been wrong to think of the market as a grand festival—including the food. He saw sellers of pies and biscuits and noodles and meat-on-a-stick and bowls of stew (bring your own bowl).

And the fruit! the fruit was entrancing. Bananas, berries, melon, mangoes, pineapple, papaya, peaches, and breadfruit. All seemed to shine and glimmer in Hinata's sight, brighter and more beautiful than anything he'd ever seen. Hinata hadn't tasted so much as a dried plum since three weeks out from Yukigaoka, when the stores of fruit aboard the Swan ran out. (Except for limes and lemons, of course, and oh, how Hinata was coming to loathe the taste of citrus.)

He wanted to ask Yamaguchi to stop so he could buy a guava, or an apple, or at least an apricot. But then he remembered that he'd spent every last coin on the clockwork bird. Hinata sighed. He was sure that Tanaka and Yamaguchi would share with him once they reached the dumpling stall, but he wanted a piece of fruit _now._

Well, and what was stopping him? Hinata and his comrades had picked plenty of fruit and other comestibles from unwary shopkeepers in Yukigaoka. Granted, they were usually caught and forced to scrub floors or wash pans or fetch water from the town well to pay for their thievery. They were generally friends with all of the shopkeepers in town, despite their light-fingered ways. And in recent months Hinata thought he'd been getting much better. Mrs. Arnold hadn't even blinked when he lifted that hot cross bun directly off the tray she was holding.

Even as these thoughts flitted through his mind, Hinata's attention was caught and held by a particularly bright and succulent apple hanging off the edge of a fruit stand up ahead. He looked away, trying not to make his intentions too obvious, and slowly drifted toward that side of the lane as they approached. 

He would have to be quick and subtle, there and then gone before the eye could blink. His wrist had to move in a supple twist, hidden in a flash. Hinata hadn't had a chance to practice these skills aboard the Swan (not unless he wanted to be caught and whipped for stealing), but he was sure that he could pull it off.

Almost there, almost there... Tanaka was saying something, laughing at some joke he'd just told, and Yamaguchi grunted a soft response, still focused on the dumplings somewhere ahead. Hinata nodded and smiled as if he was listening, letting his path drift closer and closer to the fruit stall and that beautiful, enticing apple. His fingers stretched out, wiggling in anticipation, and he was careful to keep his eyes ahead, his expression happy and engaged as he looked around.

There! The brush of smooth, glossy skin on the tips of his fingers, a snatch of the hand, and his prize was in his fist. Hinata couldn't keep a broad grin from escaping, but he kept his hand at his side, the apple hidden behind the satchel hanging from his shoulder, until they were half a dozen paces away.

Then, at last, he judged it safe. He raised the apple in his hand and took a grand, victorious bite, glorying in the sweet taste, the freshness bursting off his tongue. _Stolen food always tastes the best,_ he thought. _Who said that? Some philosopher. I'll ask Yamaguchi later—he'll be sure to know._

And then Hinata ran into a wall. He rebounded with a clash of loose limbs against solid muscle, then looked up in dismay at what he'd run into. It was a person. A man—no, a boy around Tanaka-senpai's age. But he looked like a man. He was tall and broad and his face was like the statue of a forbidding god. The white hair on top of his head was short and tufted in something like a military cut, and he didn't seem to have any eyebrows at all.

And he was glaring at Hinata as if Hinata had personally offended him. He was tall and strong and utterly, utterly intimidating, and he was _glaring at Hinata_.

Hinata squeaked in shock and ran to hide behind Tanaka. His entire body was shaking, the apple almost falling from his fingers. What had he done to earn the wrath of this burly stranger? He didn't think he'd been so foolish as to insult someone he'd never met, especially someone so large and terrifying.

"Eh?" Tanaka stopped in his tracks as Hinata suddenly appeared in front of him, clinging to his vest with one hand, the other still holding his apple. Yamaguchi stopped too, looking back with a look of irritation at being delayed on his quest for dumplings. He blanched and hunched his shoulders, though, when he saw what Hinata was hiding from.

Tanaka narrowed his eyes and followed their gazes, looking behind himself to find the big, white-haired stranger. The tall fellow was now pointing at Hinata over Tanaka's shoulder, his arm straight and outstretched like an accusing spear, and his face was bent in determined disapproval.

Tanaka frowned. "Oi, what's the ruckus here? Who are ya? What d'ya want with my kouhai?"

The other boy said nothing.

Tanaka's voice rose in agitation. "Can't ya talk, ya damn island boy? Tell me what this about, or we'll be on our way! You have no right to halt us on the street, do ya, knave?"

The white-haired boy continued to stand there, though his face was starting to redden. Then another young man appeared beside him, a short fellow with spiky black hair and enormous eyebrows, as if making up for his companion's lack. "What...what is it? Aone, why are you..." He followed the line of Aone's finger to Hinata, and his eyebrows rose in understanding.

He slapped his forehead. "Another one, Aone? Why is it always you who spots them?"

Aone looked down at his much smaller friend, still frowning. He shrugged, almost bashfully. "Sorry, Moniwa." The words were as slow and halting as his body was big. But Hinata had seen how quickly he could move. He was not comforted by this giant's gentle speech.

Moniwa shook his head and pressed on Aone's arm, making him lower it. "Not the most effective method, my friend. Let me handle this."

By now Tanaka had shuffled around to face the strangers, Hinata still behind him, now clutching the back of his vest. Yamaguchi had moved up to stand beside him, sweating but defiant. Tanaka crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance much the way he had against Billy Hanson. "What's this about then, eh?"

Moniwa walked a few steps closer, craning his head to look behind Tanaka at Hinata. "What do you have there in your hand, little fella?" he asked, not unkindly. 

Hinata bristled at the tone, Moniwa sounded like he was talking to a small child, or a nervous animal. He wasn't a child! Though he was...short...and hiding behind Tanaka...kinda like a child...

No, no, this would never do. How was Hinata ever going to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Yamaguchi if he couldn't do it now? Slowly, step by step, Hinata inched his way out from behind Tanaka. The others watched and waited for him to move with varying degrees of patience, Tanaka with one eyebrow raised, Moniwa standing with his face almost blank.

Moniwa nodded when Hinata finally, after a long, fraught moment, revealed the hand holding the apple. "Ah. I see." He looked at Aone. "This was what troubled you?"

Aone nodded. Yamaguchi craned around Tanaka to see, and gasped with loud, horrified shock when he saw the half-eaten fruit. "Hinata...!"

Tanaka looked like he was struggling with something, his face contorting as he fought to keep it under control. Hinata wasn't sure if he was trying to keep himself from laughing or crying. After a little, though, Tanaka regained enough composure to take a step away from Hinata, turning to face with him his arms folded across his chest. His face was stern, for the moment.

"Stealing, Hinata-chan? Really? Did I teach you that?"

Hinata shook his head and scuffed his toe in the dirt. "'M sorry...I was just hungry... And it was really pretty... And it was right there hanging off the edge of the table..."

Tanaka shook his head with a heavy sigh and turned to face Aone and Moniwa. He looked for all the world like a parent embarrassed by their child's bad behavior. He bent over at the waist in a deep, apologetic bow. His hand, rough with hard labor, pressed on the back of Hinata's head and forced him into a bow, too. Hinata knew Yamaguchi was also bowing on the other side.

"Please forgive Hinata-chan's rudeness and thievery," Tanaka said. "I'll pay for the apple, and for any other damage he might have caused."

Moniwa waved his hands. "Just the apple is fine, thank you. There was no real harm done. I apologize for causing a scene."

"Nay, nay, you were right to cause a scene. This was truly inexcusable."

Hinata peeked up at Moniwa through the orange fringe of his hair. Moniwa was beginning to be flustered by their deep bow, looking around a bit frantically as his face reddened. "It's all right, really. It was just the bad decision of a child. You can stand up now."

"Nay, nay, not until we've earned your forgiveness."

"It's earned, it's earned! Aone takes things too seriously, sometimes. It's just that this fruit stall belongs to his family and it's very precious to him. Please stand now. Let's all part as friends."

Tanaka straightened at last, grinning, pulling his kouhai up with his arms wrapped around their shoulders. "Aye, as friends! That would be the best parting we could hope for!" He drew his purse out of his trousers with a flourish. "Now, how much for the apple?" He eyed the fruit in Hinata's hand with a speculative gleam. "It is indeed a very beautiful thing, and not native to Iron Island, I do believe. It must cost a pretty penny, does it not?"

Moniwa looked at Aone, rubbing the back of his head, but Aone had no response. He continued to frown, watching Hinata without blinking. He was still fixated on the thief who had taken from his family, it seemed. 

Hinata had a flash of inspiration. He lowered his head, glancing bashfully up at Aone through his hair again, and shuffled forward through the dry dust trodden by many feet. He moved slowly, haltingly, as if afraid of what would meet him at the end of his short journey, but forcing himself to make the trip anyway. And he held out the apple to the tall guardian who had caught his thievery. 

"I'm very sorry," he said in the smallest, highest, most contrite voice he could muster. "Please take it back. I'll never steal again. I know it was wrong."

Aone continued to watch him with a heavy eye. Moniwa all but held his breath, waiting, as did Tanaka and Yamaguchi. Then, at last, Aone nodded. He reached out and plucked the apple from Hinata's open palm as delicately as a breeze carrying off a dandelion clock. Hinata released the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and scampered back to Tanaka's side.

Moniwa laughed, a little too high-pitched, and looked at his friend. "There, are we all settled now?"

Aone stared at the apple in his hand, then back at Hinata. He nodded, slow and solemn. 

Tanaka glanced down at his purse, then to Moniwa. "Should I not pay for it?"

Moniwa shook his head. He was still almost as red as the apple. "Nay, nay, we're settled. It's just an apple, and Hinata-chan has made his apologies. Please, please go on and enjoy the market."

Tanaka nodded and put his purse away. "Aye, we will, and with our thanks to ya." He slung an arm around Hinata's shoulders and pulled him into his side a little harder than necessary. "I'll keep an eye on this young scamp from now on, so I will."

"Of course, of course." Moniwa was occupied now with pushing and shoving Aone back toward the stall. As his head barely came up to the top of Aone's shoulder, it was something of a feat. "Come again if you'd ever like to buy some fruit!"

"We will!" Yamaguchi called over his shoulder as they hustled away, making good their escape.

Tanaka waited until they had rounded two corners, out of sight and hearing of the fruit stall and its guardians. Then he grabbed Hinata and doubled over, wheezing hard. "That...that..."

Yamaguchi hovered around him, trying to look in his face. "That was awful."

"That was _grand,"_ Tanaka corrected. He squeezed Hinata hard into his side, making the smaller boy squeak at the pressure. "Hinata-chan, you rogue! I can't believe you're such a little sneakthief! We're lucky those two didn't call the guard down on us."

It sounded like a scolding, but Tanaka's tone was jovial and delighted. He was finding a tremendous amount of pleasure in their adventures in the marketplace, notwithstanding Yamaguchi's discomfort and Hinata's naivete. Hinata stared at him with wide eyes, not sure whether to join in his laughter or be as quiet as possible after all the trouble he'd caused.

Yamaguchi's scowl lifted as he watched his senpai laugh. "You were very clever," he said after a moment, slow and thoughtful. "I didn't know you were such a talented shyster." 

He didn't sound entirely approving, but this passed over Tanaka's head.

"It was all thanks to Hinata-chan!" He stood straight and grabbed Hinata's shoulders, shaking him back and forth like a dog gently mauling a favorite toy. "You little devil! I can't believe the way you played those two. Like fiddles!"

Hinata shuffled his feet. "Being small has its good points," he mumbled. He had discovered this early in his career as a street urchin.

"They must have thought you were nine or ten years old," Yamaguchi said. "That's still old enough to know that stealing is wrong, though." He slapped Hinata lightly across the back of his head.

"You played along well, too, Yama-chan." Tanaka let go of Hinata with one hand to sling a heavy arm over Yamaguchi's shoulders. "Truly I am the most blest of all senpai, to have two such clever and adorable kouhai to call my own."

Yamaguchi blushed. Hinata blew out a breath in exasperation, longing to be shut of the entire ordeal. He didn't much like being praised for being cute and little. Dammit, he was a sailor. Someday he was going to be a pirate. He didn't want the advantages of being cute and little anymore. He wanted to trade up for the advantages of being strong and manly, like Tanaka-senpai.

Yamaguchi gave him a side-eye look. "Let's go get those dumplings," he said loudly, interrupting Tanaka's continuing guffaws. "I'm hungrier than ever after that exertion and all."

"Aye, aye, let's continue our journey." Tanaka released them at last and set off again, a spring in his step and a whistle on his lips.

Yamaguchi hovered uncertainly at Hinata's side as Hinata straightened his clothes, doing his utmost not to pout. "Are you all right?" he asked after a moment.

Hinata gave him a helpless shrug and a nod. He didn't know what he was, truly, but he wasn't hurt. Tanaka had prevented that with his protectiveness and his quick thinking.

They hurried after Tanaka, aware that he would leave them behind in just a few moments. The crowd bustled around them, wearing clothes of all colors and descriptions, their faces and the tones of their skin bearing the features of every nation under the sun. Tanaka walked with a great, swaggering gait, the rolling movement of a sailor new to land after months asea, and he held his close-shaven head high, so it wasn't hard to spot him through the press. Still, if they tarried too long, the crowd would win.

Yamaguchi leaned over into Hinata's space as they moved, keeping close to him, though not so close as to be stifling. "Tanaka-senpai didn't mean to hurt your pride," he said just loudly enough to be heard above the chatter of the crowd. "Please don't let his words trouble you."

Hinata scowled. "I'm not troubled."

Yamaguchi looked at him skeptically out of the corner of his eye, but didn't contradict him.

Hinata sighed. "I'm not troubled _much._ I know that it's no bad thing to be seen as small and harmless, especially when you know yourself to be strong and skilled. I'm just...weary of it."

"You're thirteen," Yamaguchi said kindly. He patted the top the of Hinata's head. "Maturity will come with time."

"Oi, you're thirteen, too!"

"Yes, but I'm a very mature thirteen," Yamaguchi said primly, though not without a sparkle in his eye. 

Hinata laughed, bold and bright, his dark clouds banished. He ambushed Yamaguchi without a moment's thought, throwing his arms around his friend and nearly bringing him to the ground. Yamaguchi gasped dramatically but kept his feet, wrestling back when Hinata tried to throw him down. They stumbled through the press, laughing and shoving at each other, and nearly ran into Tanaka as he stood, turned to wait for them with a broad grin adorning his face.

Then, finally, after what seemed like a month's trek through a confusing wilderness, they found the dumpling stand. And then they ate the best dumplings Hinata had ever tasted.

The Iron Island Marketplace truly was full of adventure.


	11. IN WHICH Hinata spies a chance to prove himself.

After they ate dumplings, they continued to wander the market. Tanaka scouted out a clothing stall Yamaguchi found relatively comfortable, and half an hour later Yamaguchi was kitted out with new clothes, his old ones traded to the stallkeeper for a bargain price on the new. Tanaka wanted to get something for Hinata, too, shaking his purse like an indulgent aunt, but Hinata refused. 

"They're fine!" he yelled when Tanaka began to insist, his face heating and his hands clenched into fists. "I'll buy my own the next time we have leave!"

Tanaka backed down, then, waving his hands in astonishment, though he took the rejection in good humor. Yamaguchi eyed Hinata warily. Hinata turned away and fumed to himself, coming down from his temper step by step.

By the time they ventured back into the market, he was himself again, bouncing on his feet and peering around for anything interesting or entertaining. They stopped and listened to more musicians, including a group of drummers in sarashi which particularly captivated Tanaka. Their usually boisterous senpai went strangely still and intent for a time, watching the drummers with unblinking fascination before he shook himself out of it. Another time, they found an old fellow wearing a white turban, his skin the weathered brown of an ancient palm tree, playing a stringed instrument none of them had ever seen before. Hinata was delighted by the wide variety available at the market, but sometimes it was difficult to be still long enough to take each attraction in, because something else was always drawing his attention.

Long before the turbaned musician had finished his tune (it seemed to be nigh interminable), Hinata's eyes wandered away. A sizable crowd was gathering not three stalls away, and he longed to push his way into the press and discover what the attraction was. He perked up and turned toward the area physically when a voice began to call.

"Come and see! Come and watch a demonstration of Iron Island's finest young guardsmen! See why they call us the Wall! Experience for yourself the defensive capabilities of our military! Be astounded, and be assured that this market is the safest in all of Aritossa!"

Hinata caught his breath. There was no way he could resist that. The strange, twanging music had lost all appeal to him. 

He knew better than to leave his friends without saying a word, though. If he didn't want to be treated like a child, he shouldn't act like one. Hinata grabbed Tanaka's sleeve and gave it a tug, gaining his senpai's instant attention.

"Aye, Hinata-chan? What is it?"

Hinata pointed at the yonder crowd, his eyes wide, and pranced from foot to foot. "I wanna go. Can we go?"

Tanaka raised his head and listened to the patter of the barker for a few moments. A spark lit in his eyes. "Oh, aye. I want to go, too. That will be a sight worth seeing, indeed it will."

Yamaguchi was still entranced by the music. They each grabbed an elbow and hauled him away despite his squawk of protest. "Oi, the song's not over...!"

He quieted when he saw where they were leading him, though. The crowd had grown bigger even in the last few moments. Everyone wanted to see the Iron Island guardsmen—the folks they trusted with their goods, their commerce, their livelihoods—display their skill.

Hinata and his friends found a place in the crowd. Tanaka and Yamaguchi were tall enough to see the center of attraction, but Hinata was instantly frustrated. He tried jumping up a few times to see over the shoulders of those ahead of him, but it was exhausting and not very effective. He needed to get closer, he needed...

Tanaka patted his shoulder, giving wordless permission, and Hinata was off. He found an advantage, once again, in being small, as he ducked under arms and dodged elbows in his quest for the front of the audience. He wasn't aware at first of Yamaguchi keeping up at his heels, but his friend's muttering complaints alerted him to his presence.

"Hinata-chan, must we really... We're annoying people... Hinata-chan, please..."

Hinata ignored him. Yamaguchi didn't have to choose to come. At last, he squeezed between the arms of two tall, burly islanders and found himself almost stepping on the carpet the performers had laid out. Hinata blinked and stepped back enough to keep himself off the stage. He almost ran into Yamaguchi, who caught his shoulders. They stood there together, gaping.

A boy with straight brown hair combed over his face and a sideways smile that seemed born of sarcasm stood on the rug. His arms were stretched out and his chest was pushed forward in proud display. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and his muscles... Well, it was easy to see why he felt confident in displaying his body.

As they watched, he turned to face different sides of the crowd that surrounded the improvised stage, shouting to be heard above the market crowd. "Keep in mind also that we are only cadets! Our senpai and officers are far more skilled than we are. And this demonstration will display only one of the many martial skills we practice in our training! Even so, we will awe you and amaze you. Watch and see! The guard of the Iron Island is the finest you will ever find!"

He continued in this vein until he judged that the crowd was sizeable enough, then abruptly shifted tone. "Thank you, thank you!" he cried. "Now, we will begin the demonstration. I am Futakuchi Kenji, an Iron Island guard in training, and I will be your guide. And to further prove that this is skill alone and no trickery, we would like to have a volunteer from the audience."

A lady on the opposite of the rug from Hinata covered her mouth, and Futakuchi laughed and waved his hands. "Nothing dangerous, nothing dangerous! This will be a contest of skill and strength, but there will be no harm posed to our brave volunteer, I assure you. Still, if physical might is not your best feature, perhaps you'd enjoy watching more."

Several hands rose in the crowd. Hinata's was among them, of course. He had no idea what this was about, but he burned with desire to join the fun. A contest of strength and skill? Physical might? Aye, Hinata would be a worthy opponent, of that he was sure. Better yet if there truly was some danger, so he could prove himself a brave sailor in his own eyes as well as Tanaka and Yamaguchi's.

Yamaguchi muttered and shifted beside him, his own hands conspicuously at his sides, but Hinata didn't care. He stood on his tiptoes and waved his hand back and forth, longing for the barker to notice him. Futakuchi was shading his eyes and peering about the crowd in an exaggerated show.

"We need someone tough, but nimble," he said theatrically. He began to walk around the edge of the carpet, studying those who had raised their hands. His eyes were sharp and his grin was wide. "But most of all, you must be quick on your toes."

 _That's me! Me!_ Hinata wiggled his fingers in the air.

Futakuchi paused before a burly man with his hand raised, tilting his head in appraisal. "Good sir, I do believe you would win in a wrestling match with any of our cadets." The man grinned and nodded. "But is your aim good enough to hit the side of a building?"

The man laughed and shook his head, lowering his hand and bowing out gracefully. Futakuchi winked at him and moved on. A few other hands lowered as well, but Hinata kept his up.

What kind of contest was this? Hinata had thought it would be something like arm wrestling or sumo. With his lessons aboard the Swan and his months asea doing hard labor, he was growing confident in his strength. He had eyed the lanky Futakuchi up and down and judged that he could he take him in such a contest. True, the Iron Island cadet would no doubt put up a struggle, and the battle might be long and hard-won. But all the better, then, for proving that Hinata was a capable sailor who needed protection from no one.

But Futakuchi had dismissed someone who was undoubtedly stronger than Hinata, saying that this contest was about skill more than brute strength. And he'd mentioned aiming. Was it a game of throwing? Hinata's heart beat louder at the thought. He _loved_ throwing games.

One of his favorite things to do with his gang back in Yukigaoka involved throwing cobblestones at whatever target they laid their eyes on. Street signs, dock pylons, the constable's hat... And Hinata always won. Always.

He hadn't been able to practice much aboard the Swan, since loose rocks were not quick to hand on a ship. But when the biscuit was particularly tough and inedible at noon break, he didn't mind chucking it somewhere, laughing when he hit his target dead on. He and Yamaguchi made a game of it on some days. 

They'd break a bad biscuit into pieces with a knife handle, and Hinata would throw the pieces at whatever targets Yamaguchi chose. A certain knothole in the railing, a loose hook hanging above, the back of Billy Hanson's head. They were quick and sneaky about it, knowing they'd be scolded and punished for wasting food if they were caught. But Yamaguchi seemed to gain as much pleasure from the sport as Hinata. It was one of the few times that Yamaguchi would let go his adherence to the rules and be as childish and immature as Hinata. Perhaps it reminded him of playing with his lost friend, Tsukki, defying social convention and giggling to each other in not-altogether-good-hearted fun.

Now, Hinata nudged Yamaguchi's arm. Yamaguchi frowned down at him, and Hinata grinned. _"Aim,"_ he murmured, so quietly there was no way Yamaguchi could have heard him, but Yamaguchi understood anyway. His eyes sparked, and he stood straighter suddenly. And he raised his own arm, stretching for the sky, to seek the barker's attention.

Perhaps Hinata was too far beneath Futakuchi's line of sight—he'd never seemed to notice him in circling around the edge of the crowd, eyeing every potential volunteer in appraisal. But now, with Yamaguchi standing tall and straight with his hand raised high, Futakuchi finally took notice. He turned toward the new movement and tilted his head as he took in Yamaguchi, a sideways smile sliding onto his face.

"Aye, lad? You think you have what it takes to beat an Iron Island cadet?"

Yamaguchi lowered his hand and shook his head. He placed his hands on Hinata's shoulders and pushed him forward, forcing him to take a step onto the woven carpet. Hinata hunched his shoulders and glanced back at him, but Yamaguchi's face was set. "Not me. My shipmate here, Hinata Shouyou. He has the best aim of anyone I've ever met. You want someone who can hit the side of a building? He can do far better than that."

Hinata flushed at the praise, a pleased glow spreading through every limb. He'd never heard Yamaguchi speak like that before, strong and confident and unafraid. Futakuchi's grin widened, and he stepped closer and looked Hinata up and down.

"Aye, can he? What say you, little lad? Do you have a good arm?"

Hinata's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I do!" If he knew anything in the world, he knew this. "No one can beat me in a throwing game. Come, try me! I'll beat you fair to rights, I will!"

Futakuchi laughed, loud and startled. It was not a cruel laugh, though there was an edge to it. His eyes lit bright with challenge. "So you say! Well, we cannot let this boast stand without testing it, can we? Aye, lad, we'll take you as our volunteer."

Hinata stepped forward onto the rug, distantly aware of Yamaguchi fading into the crowd behind him. The attention in the area had risen, the excitement of the gathered watchers rising to new heights. It reminded Hinata of when Yamaguchi fought Billy Hanson, but this time he was the one at the center of everyone's gaze. It lit a fire in his belly. He would show them all what he could do, and no mistake about it.

"What's the contest?" he asked, bouncing on his toes in eagerness to begin. "Quoits? Horseshoes? Another game? Just give me something to throw and I'll take you down square."

Futakuchi laughed again, less startled this time, a little harsher. His grin was set and hard, his eyes like pieces of flinty steel. "Aye, aye, we'll have you show us what you can do. But it's not me you'll be facing in this contest. Your foe will be one of my comrades. Is that acceptable?"

Hinata didn't hesitate. He had decided that he could take on Futakuchi for certain in a physical test, but he was sure that he could beat anyone, cadet or not, in a game of throwing. "Aye, that's good and fair. Who will I be playing against?"

Futakuchi looked away from the improvised stage to a cart that waited nearby. Hinata hadn't noticed it before, too occupied by the show Futakuchi was putting on. Several young men stood near the cart, though Hinata was too short to see much of them through the crowd. Futakuchi waited for a moment, until someone there must have given some sign, and then he turned back to Hinata with a wide, sharp grin.

"Well, lad, it seems that my comrades are taking your challenge seriously. You will be facing the best of the cadets, a mate of mine who is fair more than most grown men can face without blanching, let alone a lad like you. I'm very eager to see this contest, so I am. Are you ready?"

Hinata nodded. He was ready for anything.

Futakuchi stood straight and walked toward the center of the rug. He spread his arms and raised his voice to be heard by all and sundry. "Friends! Ladies and gentlemen! Honored guests all welcome here to the Iron Island Marketplace! You will now witness a demonstration of the might of the Iron Island. You will see why they call us the Wall. The contest will be held between this young sailor, Hinata Shouyou..." Here he held one hand toward Hinata with a grand flourish. "...and one of our finest cadets, a flower in his prime, the strong and mighty..." He held his other hand toward the other side of the crowd, and someone tall and broad began pushing his way through the people who separated him from the stage.

“Aone Takanobu!” 

Hinata froze where he stood. He stared up...and up...at the young man opposing him. Aone had taken off his shirt, too. Futakuchi’s build was impressive, but Aone was on another level entirely. 

Hinata's eyes were so wide they hurt. Somewhere in the background, he heard Yamaguchi's gasp of shock. Tanaka yelled in delight from the crowd. "Yahaa! How about that, Hinata-chan? Show 'im what you're made of!"

Aone's lips compressed in a slight frown as he bent his head to look down at Hinata. The only mitigating factor Hinata saw in this situation was that Aone didn't look vengeful. There was nothing in his expression that said he was looking to get back at Hinata for what he'd done to Aone's family and their fruit stall. His face was simply very, very serious and determined. He intended to win this contest. And he was going to do it honorably.

Hinata didn't know if that made it better or worse.

Futakuchi was laughing. "Ha! I said you would blanch, sailor boy! I was right, wasn't I?"

Hinata regained himself enough to give him a glare. "I'm not scared!" he yelled, hands wrapping tight into fists. "I was just..." His voice faltered, losing strength as he glanced at Aone again. "...surprised..."

Futakuchi's eyebrows rose, and he looked between the two of them in sudden curiosity. "Oh, aye? Do you know my comrade, lad? You've met before?"

Aone said nothing. Futakuchi did not seem much surprised. He looked at Hinata for a response. 

Hinata shifted from foot to foot. His face heated. "I thought he was just...a fruit-seller's son..."

A zealous, powerful, sharp-eyed fruit-seller's son, true enough. But he'd never imagined that Aone was in the military, too. That he was part of Iron Island's famed guard, even as a cadet.

"Well, and so he is..." Futakuchi said. His voice lost some confidence as he glanced between them, trying to figure out what was going on. For the first time, he didn't sound like a showman plying his trade, but a young man little older than Hinata, uncertain and hesitant in the face of the unexpected.

"What's all this then? What's going on?" The new voice was sharp and infuriated, coming from the direction of the cart. Another person was pushing his way through the crowd, this one short enough that he was impossible to see through the pressing bodies. The evidence of his progress was in the shifting and murmuring of the spectators he shoved by, their glances downward to the sides and in front of them marking his path. "What nonsense are you up to this time, you great load of foolish children? I swear, I can't leave you alone for a quarter of a bell or you're all off staging some shenanigan..."

Hinata tilted his head. The voice was...familiar... 

The owner of the voice pushed his way out of the crowd and onto the rug, stumbling forward with the sudden loss of pressure on all sides. He scraped to a halt, his tunic askew on his chest, and glared around himself at the two cadets. His curly dark hair tufted up from his head like the fur of an agitated cat, back arched in readiness to flee or to fight.

"Captain Moniwa!" Futakuchi greeted him with a smooth grin, wide and charismatic, though fear lurked behind his eyes.

"Don't you 'Captain' me, Futakuchi!" Moniwa turned on him and beat him back with a series of short jabs to his torso, not hard enough to injure but certainly strong enough to be felt. Futakuchi flinched and backed away, almost falling into the arms of the crowd, and Moniwa turned his glare on Aone. "What cockamamie scheme are you two pulling this time? Aone? It was Futakuchi's idea, wasn't it?"

Aone tilted his head. Futakuchi gathered himself enough to approach again, his hands outstretched in conciliation. His voice was contrite and persuasive. "Captain, Captain! It's no scheme! It's just a demonstration of one of our training techniques to show the good visitors to the market just how safe they are in the hands of the guard of the Wall. No harm is intended and none will be done!"

Moniwa held still and glared at Futakuchi, his slightly-built body heaving as he fumed. His entire being radiated _waiting._ He was expecting more.

Futakuchi winced. "Of course, if anyone chooses to donate a coin or two to the military efforts, that all to the good, aye? A free choice, freely given. We ask nothing and expect nothing.”

Moniwa made a strangled noise of frustration and punched Futakuchi again. "I'm putting you on potato-peeling duty for a year, you rascal!"

The crowd had begun to titter and chuckle at the display. They must have thought it was all a part of the show. Hinata, though, could feel his heart sinking in disappointment. He really, really wanted to have a contest with Aone, and every irritated word out of Moniwa's mouth took that possibility farther and farther away.

"And you!" Moniwa turned on Aone and shoved at his arm, though he was much more gentle with him than he was with Futakuchi. "You shouldn't let him talk you into these things, Aone."

Aone looked abashed, his face lowering from its proud height. But his jaw set in stubbornness at the same time. He didn't want to give up the competition, either. It probably hadn't been hard for Futakuchi to persuade him. A gentle giant he might have been, but he was also a sportsman.

Heat rose in Hinata's limbs and flooded his middle, moving his feet forward before he knew what he was about. He marched over the rug, fists clenched and rising. "Oi! Captain Moniwa!" 

Moniwa spun to face him. His generous eyebrows flew upward in astonishment. "Hinata-chan! You...?"

"Captain Moniwa!" Hinata halted before him. "Please let us play! Aone and me want to compete against each other. Please let us!"

Then he used the move he'd learned from Tanaka. He bowed, deep and low and formal, and held the pose. 

"What..." Moniwa sputtered. Hinata peeked up at him through his hair. The cadet captain was turning red again. "What is happening here..."

"C'mon, Captain," Futakuchi dared to wheedle. "It's just a training exercise. The one with the staff. Aone is the best at it! Let him have a moment in the sun."

Hinata peeked at Aone. Aone stared at Moniwa, his eyes large and pleading. Moniwa was wavering—it was impossible to miss.

"Let them play!" Tanaka hollered from the crowd, and others instantly took up the call. Someone began to clap, and then someone else, and soon the force and power of it seemed to reverberate around the entire market square.

"Let them play! Let them play!"

It was far too much for Moniwa. He held firm for all of ten seconds into the chant, his face growing redder and redder. Then he threw his hands into the air in a flail of surrender. "Aye then! Have it your way! I wash my hands of the entire affair."

Hinata popped up from his deep bow, pumping his fists into the air in celebration. Aone's entire face somehow brightened even though his expression didn't change at all. Futakuchi grinned, sly and slanted, his eyes narrowing in fox-like pleasure. Moniwa huffed and moved to the edge of the crowd, where he crossed his arms over his chest and set his face in disapproval. The watchers cheered.

Aone looked at Hinata, and his face no longer seemed like that of a forbidding god. He was just a youth little older than Hinata who wanted to sport in the bright tropical sun and enjoy himself. Futakuchi grinned and nudged his arm in playful understanding, then turned toward their comrades at the cart. "Come along, fellows! We'll begin the demonstration!"

Hinata rose up on his toes and strained to see them coming. His entire body felt alight. Finally, finally, the contest was going to begin.


	12. IN WHICH a duel is fought in the market square.

"Kamasaki! Obara!" Futakuchi called, all but dancing on the carpet in high spirits. "Hurry up! Let's not keep the good folks waiting!"

Hinata rose up on his toes, trying to see the newcomers before they arrived. They were carrying something in their arms, pushing through the people as they moved. He couldn't make out what they were holding, though. It didn't make sense. What kind of throwing game was this?

The two cadets finally made their way out onto the carpet. They were both tall and strong-looking, not quite as tall as Aone but close. One had blond hair and an aggressive scowl, and the other was beatific and smiling. But there was a sameness in their stance, in the way they held themselves, that showed clearly that they came from the same unit. They were comrades, and they were built to stand together. To be a Wall.

"All right, let's get it set up!" Futakuchi said. He took something from the blond one, who grumbled as he released it. It was...a pail? Futakuchi grunted as the full weight landed on his fingers, his arms pulled straight down by the weight of the pail, knees bending to accommodate the sudden burden. Hinata blinked.

The smiling one had a sturdy staff in one hand and a large white cloth draped over his other arm. He gave the staff to Aone, who took it easily in both hands and spun it, expertly, feeling the balance and heft of it in his hands. Hinata's eyes widened as he watched. Aone was clearly very, very comfortable with a weapon in his hands. The plain wooden stick suddenly seem lethal, and it whistled in the air as he spun it in one hand, then the other.

Kamasaki and Obara started to do something with the cloth, unfolding it between them, but Hinata was distracted when Futakuchi dropped the heavy pail next to him, almost on his foot. Hinata startled and jumped back, hands rising in instinctive defense. "Uwah, what's this about? What's this? Watch where you're putting that thing!"

Futakuchi gave him a strange look. "What is it? This is your part of the competition, sailor-chan. You asked for something to throw. Here it is." He gestured down at it.

Hinata stared into the wooden bucket. It was full of pale, oblong objects about the size of his palm. He picked one up, hefting it in his hand. It felt like tough cloth full of something both heavy and pliable. He looked up at Futakuchi, quirking an eyebrow in question. 

Futakuchi grinned. "They're just waxed sailcloth filled with sand and sewn tightly shut. Splendid ammunition, is it not? It feels good in your hand, doesn't it?"

Hinata tilted his hand back and forth, feeling the solid weight of the little sandbag. It did feel good. The size was right even in his relatively small hand. It would be easy to throw, flying straight and true to its target. After a moment of contemplation, he looked up, eyes widening in excitement.

He gave Futakuchi a wide grin. "Aye! It feels grand!"

Futakuchi looked startled, blinking and drawing his head back at the sudden shout, but then he relaxed and smiled back. "You're an odd little duck, sailor-chan."

Hinata nodded, unbothered by the comment. It might have sounded like an insult, judging by only the words, but there was no insult in Futakuchi's voice. He just sounded intrigued and curious. His excitement must be rising, too. Hinata could feel the blood pumping in his veins, hot and heavy and loud. 

He looked across the carpet to Aone, and saw Aone looking back at him with the same look. Aone was standing with the staff held ready in both hands, his legs spread in a defensive stance. Behind him, Kamasaki and Obara had stretched out the white cloth, holding down the bottom corners with their feet, the top corners held in their hands stretched above their heads. The white expanse of the cloth spread behind Aone, far taller and broader than even his generous frame. It rather did look like the side of a building.

Hinata was beginning to understand how the game was going to work.

"Oi, Futakuchi," called the blond one, Kamasaki, his lips twisting in distaste. "I hope you picked a good volunteer this time." He looked at Hinata, his eyes narrowed and fierce. "You better not hit me or Obara with any of your ammunition, sailor brat. You aim at the cloth, see?" He gestured at the sheet with his free hand. "Or Aone. You can hit Aone. But not us. We have to stand like statues to keep the target still, so we can't defend ourselves."

Hinata nodded, serious and sincere as he rarely, rarely was. "I won't! You'll be safe!"

Kamasaki squinted at him, then looked at Futakuchi as if for confirmation. Futakuchi laughed and spread his hands. "It's true, I swear it! Hinata-chan comes very highly recommended!"

Kamasaki's nostrils flared in suspicion. "By whom?"

"By his friend, of course, sailor-chan number two!" Futakuchi pointed at Yamaguchi, and the other cadets all turned to stare at him.

Yamaguchi went white as that sheet, but he didn't quail and shrink. Instead, he stood straighter, his shoulders square and firm. He gave the Iron Island boys his strongest, steadiest nod.

"Tch," Kamasaki did not seem entirely reassured. But he complained no more. He solidified his stance, the grip of his hand and the weight of his foot, settling in for the work ahead.

Futakuchi gave Hinata another smile. "Do you understand what the contest is now?"

Hinata nodded. "Aye. It will be fun!"

Futakuchi grinned, then turned and spread his arms again to address the crowd. "The demonstration will now begin! Hinata-chan has the entire contents of that pail to work with. Aone-kun has his staff. Who will win? Hinata only has to hit the cloth or Aone himself once to prove himself the master of this sport. Aone must defend against every single projectile that comes his way. That is the exercise! This is how we hone our strength and skill to defend the Iron Island!"

He spun to smile at Hinata, wide and bright. He spoke to him as much as he spoke to the crowd. "I do not boast when I say that Aone will win. It is a simple truth of the world! Watch now, and be amazed. Skilled and swift Hinata-chan may be, but he will never defeat a guard of the Wall!"

Hinata lifted his chin, his face growing hot in the sun and the pressure. "So you say!" he cried in challenge. "We'll have to see, won't we?"

Futakuchi laughed and bowed, first to Hinata, then to the crowd. And he backed away to the edge of the watchers, near Moniwa but not close enough to be in easy range of his fists. "Let the contest begin!" he cried.

The crowd took up the cry. "Go for him!" "Do your best, chibi-chan!" "Show your courage, young ones!"

Hinata took his time getting ready. He took off his shirt, unwilling to be the only lad on the carpet still wearing one, and kicked off his shoes. He carried them to Yamaguchi for him to safeguard, along with his satchel. Tanaka had pushed his way through the press to stand next to Yamaguchi, and he gave Hinata a pat on the shoulder, rough and excited, before Hinata moved back to center stage.

He stood there on the finely woven rug, wiggling his bare toes in the soft, plush pile. He stretched out his arms, pulled one at a time across his chest, then bent his torso back and forth to loosen his muscles. The sounds of the audience washed over him, a rush and a roar in the background like the crash of waves against the side of a ship. The sun was hot and high, prickling against his skin, and the smell of the market, livestock and produce and spices and foodstuffs and people, people, all the people, filled his senses like a heady wine.

All the while, he could feel Aone's eyes on him, hot and steady as the sun above. Hinata revelled in the pressure of it, the thrill of competing against a strong opponent. He was going to win, he was sure of it, but it would be so much the sweeter if the fight was a hard one.

At last, Hinata bent to the bucket and drew up a sandbag. The cries of the watchers changed, but he paid no attention. He could hear Tanaka and Yamaguchi's voices mingled with the rest, shouting encouragement, and that was enough for him. Aone watched him, shifting subtly as he tried to judge where Hinata's first throw would go. Hinata held the projectile out from his body in his upturned hand. He tossed it into the air and caught it, once, twice.

First, a test. How brave was Aone Takanobu? Hinata drew back his hand, his opposite leg rising to counterbalance, and threw the bag as hard as he could directly at Aone's face. Aone didn't flinch. He didn't blink. The staff spun up in front of his face, smooth and efficient, and deflected the blow. Some of the watchers gasped at the speed and ferocity of the attack as well as the deftness of the defense. Aone had barely moved, his body rock still, only his hands spinning the staff just as far as it needed to go and no farther.

Hinata smiled. Aone lifted his chin, just a fraction.

Hinata's hand dipped into the bucket. He aimed for the top corners of the sheet, where Obara and Kamasai held tight, then for the bottom corners. He aimed for Aone's midsection, his limbs, and right above his head in an attempt to catch him off guard. Aone blocked them all. Every movement was clean, swift, and effortless. He only moved when he needed to, only stretched out when absolutely necessary, and as soon as each motion was finished he centered himself again and stood, balanced on the balls of his feet, ready for anything.

A breathless chuckle fell out of Hinata's mouth, barely loud enough to be heard. This was hard. This was _fun._ He was going to have to be trickier.

He scooped up a handful of sandbags into his left arm for quicker access, then stood straight, facing Aone. He began to pace, back and forth, like a predatory cat watching for an opening. Quick. He had to be quick. And he had to aim...

There!

Hinata threw three sandbags in swift succession, faster than the eye could follow. Top right, bottom left, middle. He aimed for the extreme corners, then smack in the center. If Aone overextended himself, perhaps he wouldn't be able to get back in time...

Aone did not overextend himself. The three projectiles rebounded from the staff and fell to the rug with all the rest, one after the other after the other. Had Hinata had a more poetic soul, he might have called it beautiful.

As it was, he just thought it was grand. Grand and glorious. One of the best things he'd ever seen.

Hinata laughed again, grinning so wide it hurt his cheeks, and picked up more ammunition. Faster. He had to be faster. And trickier. He had to make it impossible.

He paced back and forth, watching Aone from all angles. The noise of the crowd had faded beyond his perception, every bit of his attention focused on his opponent. He was aware only of the stretch and burn of his muscles, the weight of the projectile in his hand, the slight shift and twitch of Aone's body as he followed Hinata's movements.

Once more. Hinata threw three sandbags as quickly as he could. Top left, bottom right, top left again. He tried to hide the movement behind his body until the last moment so Aone couldn't see it coming. But Aone always saw it coming.

Again. Again. He tried all kinds of combinations of the corners and different targets on Aone's body. He even tried aiming for the staff itself in hopes of confusing him into moving it the wrong way. Faster and faster he threw, as quickly as he could, until he and Aone were both trembling and panting, sweat glistening on their skin in the bright sunshine streaming down on the market square.

Hinata reached into the bucket for another projectile...and nothing met his hand. He looked down into the bucket and found just one sandbag left, lonely in the bottom of the pail. Including the one in Hinata's left hand, that made...two.

Hinta glanced sideways at Aone. Aone's shoulders were heaving for breath, and his face was no longer any kind of stony mask. But his body was as steady and well-balanced as ever, his hands firm on the wooden staff.

Hinata turned his back to Aone and picked up the last projectile, hiding his movements with his body. He pretended to pick up a few more. Then he straightened and stared down at the two sandbags, one in either hand.

Two more chances. No...one last chance. He needed to make this a combination, something that could not be avoided. Hinata hefted the bag in his left hand. Could he...?

His left hand was not as good as his right, but he did throw with it sometimes. His aim with that hand was nowhere near as precise, and sometimes it flew hilariously off the mark. But he wasn't trying to hit a bird out of the sky. He just needed to hit a quadrant of a sheet. Speed and strength—and surprise—were more important than pinpoint accuracy.

Hinata steeled himself. He blew out a breath. Then he spun with a loud yell, the cry of a warrior charging into battle, and threw them both at once. The aim of his right hand was as true as always—the top right corner of the cloth, right next to Kamasaki's knuckles gripping pale against the white sheet. The left hand threw to the bottom left, not as precise, but close enough to be called a good attack. Simultaneous throws to extreme corners, both as hard and as fast as Hinata could make them.

Aone's eyes widened. Surely this would do it, surely he could not defend against two blows at once. But Aone moved, swift and sure. He stretched out the staff for the top corner, bold and true, and the bottom corner...

His foot.

The sandbags seemed to deflect from the staff and from the foot as slow as molasses, rolling back in the air in leisurely arcs. Hinata stared, his arms still sweeping down toward the carpet at the end of his throw. Aone landed on the ground with a soft thud and settled immediately into a ready position, unaware that he had already won.

He'd already won. The contest was over. Hinata had lost. He straightened, blinking, his hands falling open and empty at his sides.

After a moment to absorb this final exchange, the crowd erupted into noise. Aone blinked, startled, as his mates threw their arms around his shoulders in congratulation. Futakuchi was leaping and hooting his delight, and even Moniwa did not look displeased by the result. Indeed, he radiated pride.

A hand touched Hinata's shoulder, and he looked up into Yamaguchi's face. "I lost," he said, numb, just starting to be sad.

Yamaguchi shook his head. He was smiling the widest smile Hinata had ever seen on him. "That was amazing, Hinata-chan."

Tanaka's hand ruffled his hair, just as exuberant as before the match. Indeed, his spirits might have been even higher. "Hinata-chan!" He bent over to yell in Hinata's face to be heard above the crowd. "You throw like a demon, Hinata-chan! Why did you never show me before?"

Hinata flushed and mumbled, "Not many chances aboard the Swan."

Yamaguchi gave him a sly look out of the corner of his eye. Tanaka shook him by the shoulders, still overcome with excitement. He seemed half a moment from ripping off his own shirt to join in the fun. 

Hinata managed a smile. The loss itched and burned at his chest, especially since he'd been so sure that he would win. But the praise and appreciation of his shipmates did much to soothe his spirit.

The Iron Island cadets had begun to settle down. Futakuchi stepped to the center of the rug and raised his arms to draw the crowd's attention. "Friends! Friends! Now you have seen the defensive skill of our guardsmen. Remember what you have witnessed!" He bent to pick up the empty bucket and held it out in both hands, grinning like a satisfied cat. "And of course, if you'd like to show your appreciation in a more concrete way, perhaps a more monetary way..."

Moniwa hit him upside the head and snatched away the bucket.

Obara and another cadet—shorter than some of the others but very broad and muscular—began to fold the sheet and roll up the carpet, while a small, slight youth only a little taller than Hinata stooped to gather the sandbags. The show was over. But at least the watchers were united in agreement that it had been a good show.

Several members of the audience pressed forward to congratulate the young guardsmen. When Moniwa wasn't looking, Futakuchi cupped his hands and grinned broadly at the coins that dropped into them. A coin or two found their way into Hinata's hands, as well, pressed there along with a pat on the head from this or that satisfied spectator. When the crowd finally broke up and drifted away, Hinata stood astonished, blinking down at his hands and the fee he had earned with his few minutes of work.

They were mostly copper coins, to be sure. But a silver or two glinted among the bunch as well. It was almost as much money as he'd gotten for three months of labor aboard the Swan.

When he had gathered himself, Hinata turned to Tanaka and thrust three coppers into his fist. "For the dumplings."

"There's no need, Hinata-chan." Tanaka pushed his hand away, folding his fingers shut around the coins. "It is a senpai's pleasure to treat his kouhai. Those are yours. I won't take them."

"Then..." Hinata looked around. Most of the cadets were busy packing materials into their cart. Aone stood slightly removed from the group, wiping sweat from his face. He'd put his shirt back on, but his shoulders still heaved as he regained his breath. 

Hinata dropped most of the coins into Yamaguchi's hand, then pushed his way over to him, shuffling through the dust in the shoes he'd put back on at some point. Maybe Yamaguchi had slipped them on him when he wasn't paying attention. Hinata had no idea. His fingers and toes were still buzzing with the fading thrill of the fight. Aone's probably were too.

"Um..."

Aone had been staring at the ground. He looked up at Hinata's voice, his eyes flashing. He didn't seem angry, though. Just...fierce. 

Hinata flinched, but he steadied himself and held out his right hand, holding a silver coin. "For the apple. I truly am sorry. I wouldn't have stolen it if I'd had money at the time. But now I do. Is this enough?"

Aone looked at his hand for a long moment. He didn't move, didn't blink, didn't even tilt his head in contemplation. Hinata held still, afraid to breathe.

Then Aone reached out. He plucked the coin from Hinata's fingers and made it disappear somehow, then folded Hinata's hand in his. He did not squeeze hard. He held Hinata's hand in his own, warm and firm and callused, but also overwhelmingly careful and restrained. Aone was very aware of his strength and size. Perhaps just as aware as Hinata always was of his own size, his own limitations.

Hinata stared at their two hands, locked together, his hand all but vanished in Aone's massive paw. Then he brought over his other hand to hold Aone's, as well. It only seemed fair.

Aone smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this actually a real military exercise that has ever been practiced by trainees anywhere in the world at any point in history? Who knows? I got the idea from Mulan. I can't be held responsible for that.


End file.
